Dear older, more boring Me,
So it looks like our dream of working on a farm collective somewhere in space and publishing groundbreaking philosophical treatises about the existence of a four-dimensional world limited by three-dimensional emotions while writing cutting-edge poetry on the side never came true. Bummer.
But hey, blogging in
Love,
young, idealistic You
_____________________________________
Dear young, idealistic Me,
If life doesn’t get simpler the older you get, you’re doing something wrong. Fact.
Love,
older, more boring You
P.S. It turns out the plan to get chicks to sleep with you by going on about how genius The Stranger is doesn’t work. I repeat: does not work.
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