Dear Future Me

Dear Future Me,

This is Past Me, as you can guess. I'm sure that for some reason you've decided to check out the blog archives and remembered this humble little post. (And some other humble posts since I intend to make letters to myself a series :I. Please be patient with with me, Future Me.) Now I'm going to make two guesses:

a) you are now a famous and bestselling dude with tons of supporters (duuude. you have more than three subscribers now. :O) and a bunch'a books

or

b) you are not-too-distant Future Me, being bored, procrastinating, and reading the blog archives because it's better than doing schoolwork

If it's the latter, GO AND DO YOUR JUNK FUTURE ME. SHEESH. HAVE YOU NOT IMPROVED AT ALL?! >:I Buuuut if you're the former, please forgive me. Remember those good ol' days when you tried too hard to be funny, instead of it coming naturally? Well, those good ol' days is currently...the present...for me...

I AM SORRY FOR TRYING TOO HARD TO BE FUNNY DDD:

A-hem. Moving on. If you're the uber-successful Future Me I predict you to be, please pass this on to your stalker fangirls/boys (whut? i have fanboys? ._. they exist? O______O):

Dear Stalker Fangirls/Boys,

Congratulations, I have dug out an old blog post I made years, months, weeks, maybe minutes ago. And since you're such a loyal supporter, I'm going to tell you something: I started out as an embarrassing, stubborn, dewy-eyed six-year-old whose very first story was about a vampire, a vampiress (also known as the vampire's sissyfoo), and a ghost.

They played ball. The vampire and vampiress needed to eat dinner, and they ate their favorite: spinach. The next day the played ball again, and they were happy forever. The End. well that escalated quickly  idk what i was thinking then 

That story was written in a single paragraph with literally no punctuation marks ('cept for the period after "The End"), no quotation marks, and no sense. (That part I guess didn't change much over the years :I).

Or what about my first novel EVER, HERS? I'm sure you guys never heard of it. (But if it just happens to be the novel that brought me fame in the first place, well...I guess you've heard of it .______. thanks for saving the day Captain Obvious)

There was a time when I stayed away from my novel for FIVE MONTHS because I was too embarrassed to revise it. Why? Because I thought my novel sucked. Why? Because I kept reading awesome books by awesome writers.

Nearly everyday I would spend quite some time in my Corner of Self-Pity because I knew I wasn't an awesome writer. Even if everyone was telling me that even bestselling authors started small - J.K. Rowling's manuscript for Harry Potter got rejected more than a thousand times - I still felt pretty bad. Why? Because there was a reason they were bestselling authors: they had the talent for it. They had amazing plots, memorable characters, heart-wrenching suspense (or heart-squeezing romance, but let's ignore the romance, shall we? :D), and real emotions.

What did I have? Cliche plots. Whacko characters. Cheesy emotion. And a Corner of Self-Pity that seemed to beckon me toward it every moment of every day.

So I guess I started small. Way small. And I sucked. I SUCKED. THERE. I ADMIT IT. (And I, as you can see, used to use a lot of caps lock. I hope I still do in the future. :I)

If you ever feel like you'll never make it as a writer, if you ever feel so untalented because of awesome writers like *cough*ME (and I'm SO modest! :D)*cough*, I'm telling you this: I. Felt. The. Same. Way.

I'm going to say it again because, if you were anything like me, you'd still believe you stink even after I repeat it a hundred times.

I FELT LIKE I STUNK AT WRITING AND THAT I SHOULD JUST GIVE UP BECAUSE I WOULDN'T BE AS AWESOME AS THE BIG DUDES, THE BESTSELLING AUTHORS. WELL LOOK AT ME NOW.

(Note: To the confused readers who are reading this at April 2013, I'm pretending to be Future Me pepping up my future fangirls/boys. At the moment I have no fangirls/boys, and apparently I think the best way to pep people up is by shouting at their faces with large blue texts. I am such a great motivator.)

Well I think I did an awesome job at pepping you up huh? :D

...


I have no idea what I'm saying. -.- I'm sorry you guys, I got writer's block, and I take my fury on my blog D: I'M SORRY IF I'M HUMILIATING YOU, FUTURE ME. PAST ME IS VERY, VERY, SORRY. DDD:

I suck at writing things to motivate people. ;___; Maybe I should just stick to my nonsensical junk instead. That way I could write it without feeling worried about how good my stuff it because, hey, I'm purposefully making it awful in the first place.  -.-

I have yet to know what I should really write, Future Me. I think I have a better future with fiction or stuff - things that actually make sense - but then there's a lot of competition and you have to wear some sort of mask. Then again, if you write rainbow puke like Stuff, you:

a) don't have to worry about criticism because you made it suck in the first place, anyway.
b) can totally be yourself and go crazy
c) don't have to pretend like you have a normal sense of humor ._____.

But then, that won't guarantee you much success as a writer. :/

HELP ME, FUTURE ME. D: Get a time machine and slap me in the face right now. Please? Then tell me your formula to success so I could do it, and then you'll cease to exist, and we'll make a time paradox. Yay, paradoxes. >:D

Again guys, I'm sorry if this made no sense. I'm currently deprived of sleep and am dehydrated (read: I want to drink water but am too lazy to get up and head to the kitchen for some water), and unfortunately that makes my mind go loopy.

.____.

Well. Uh. Hope you enjoyed this letter, Future Me. And I hope you're not cringing with embarrassment because of how weird I am. (I said I was sorry, didn't I? D: )

Love,
-Yourself

P.S. Because it's totally not narcissistic to love yourself, right? XD
P.P.S. Peace out! :D
P.P.P.S. Sorry, if you don't remember, peace out is sort of my catchphrase in the old days. I hope it's still your current one. :/