letter to my younger self

Originally published at jakbobbygallery.com
January 14th, 2017 6:22 am

you just do not want to learn, you want to live off the academe and work on it. learning. it goes from that thought. if around 2006 you were only thinking of jumping into the bandwagon that is parkour you should have known that the summer after that year will be something you cannot even just update over multiply.com. you will start living on that discipline’s philosophy. you were never the libertine, but you understand the band and you know you will never be the rimbaud. you know that. heck, you even expected the kind of loser you are. the outcast that drew you closer into samuel pepys and the stenography you undyingly loved during those times you need to write on an expired planner

know that this is being written about eleven years after you first tried one december to travel alone, get drunk and sneak into a pub, learn how to make friends, and speak different language. you will never speak enough french, sadly, but you keep trying. you keep trying. you will. you will stalk like crazy. learn how to go unnoticed in social situations. be low-key when everyone wanted to get noticed. hide your obsession over rhums — cheapest escape while hiding on the rooftop. gazing at the stars. remember when you were about ten and you ended up stargazing after tending the cows with papa talking endlessly about constellations and navigation and you went to bed crying because you were just so overwhelemed of everything that boring saturday night? it never changed. you still go about at night doing night shifts thinking one day you will not be hasting your time cashing through daily just to get through. time is such a man made construct. such and a couple more like existence. you know that already and wrote things about it while hoping your sister do not stop breathing in the middle of the night without any reason. you are always afraid how things are real as they are when compared to your dreams about your neighbour being the doomsday evil queen.

that you will keep on pissing off the punctuation rules, even the construction rules and push your james joyce because, along the lady woolf you look up to them. to their troubled minds. to their troubled narratives. such and the undying weaving of words like you will always enjoy whatever language you get into. sadly you will never have the chance to practice your spanish. nor will you ever sing the tierra adorada para el sol de oriente. not a chance. sadly. but hey, do wait. time will tell when. keep holding on