Dear Future Self

Dear Future Self,


You did it.


Living with no limits. Losing yourself in your passion. Rising up and growing into the best you could be. Your world was waiting for you.


Look down, at the mountains you conquered, the puckered scars that smile up at you, the clouds that linger to catch you if you slip. The sky isn’t your limit; it’s your window.


You are dangerous but epically beautiful, like flames of a fire that lick the sky or crashing waves that swallow the shore. The world admires you, few dare to come too close, as they watch you cradle the dreams that were always worth losing sleep for in the bruised palms of your hands. You fought and struggled and crumbled and rebuilt yourself and rose out of the ashes to build a kingdom from the sticks and stones.


Your emotions are bold, your ideas in italics, and you wake up to live in ALL CAPS. True or false: you might never stop tripping to hug a lonely floor, might never wear the right combinations of clothes, and will most certainly never be able to dance properly. It doesn't matter. You are forever flawless. They can’t be imperfections if you love them.


Stay there. Caught head over heels with the magic of the world, the infinite possibilities tingling in your fingertips.


You’re a dreamer.

And dreamers never made it easy for anyone.


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