Questions only I can answer

But not now. Part of yesterday’s prompt is to write a letter to myself, 20 years older. In 20 years, I will be closing in on 50. What things I will know, if I make it that far. I wrote to my 14-year old self a lot about regrets, and that I am much wiser now than I was then. You might say it comes with growing older. I guess that is true. Simply being around and conscious educates us. But every person has a different learning curve. I am considered intelligent, and I think that has a lot to do with the insights I gain. I also have a lot of spare time, time to read, think, and write, but also a hell of a lot of time to waste, so my parents would call it, on computer games and TV series. Still, there is a threshold I can’t pass: I can’t know the future, not now, not in 20 years, not ever. If I could transcend space and time, well, I’d be a certifiable psychic, and probably also a certifiable nutcase. Right now, I’m only a mild nut, more of the fruit cake than the squirrel sh*t variety. When am I going to get to the point, you ask? I don’t know, is there one?

There certainly is. A point. Just like the letter to myself as a 14-year old was not an attempt to change the pass, the letter to myself in 20 years will not work like an oracle. The letter to my past self was more of a way to reflect on my regrets and achievements, and the one to my future self will reveal part of my doubts and hopes, not only to myself, but to everyone who happens to read this. And, it is kind of a psychological track record. In 20 years, if I’m still around and able to type, I can possibly answer those questions, and, if you, and the internet, and the world are still there, you can see that as well (and compare it to your own, if you’ve followed the suggestion of the prompt). Which gives me the idea that a psychologist could vastly profit from this, and thereby we would all somehow serve science.

One very archetypical question would be: Am I going to regret doing what I am doing now? I don’t mean writing this, but my entire life situation. I know I could do better. I established that general fact about every person in the world at any time in any place in my post potentials. I know it is in my reach to achieve my degree in Anthropology within one or two more years. I just need to tell my dad to fork over some money, to pay for tuition, and all I have to do is sit on my ass and study. But that’s not who I am. I am 27 years old, and I just now got a regular job with regular pay through a streak of luck. I haven’t had many great achievements beyond that lately, and my self-confidence is very, very low. Well, it’s getting better with every Euro I receive from sitting around, waiting for the fire alarm to go off or my boss to pick me up after the graveyard shift. Blogging has also done good for my self-esteem, but I’m not freshly pressed yet, so not really an achievement there. No, I don’t mean to devalue my Addictive Blog community award, which gave my presence and popularity on the blogosphere and my chance to get freshly pressed a big boost. Side note: It’s interesting how my lack of self-esteem no longer affects my mood, but it makes me the laziest person around. I guess that has to do with realizing that having no impact can be a good thing, or at least doesn’t have to be a bad thing. Well, I don’t believe that I don’t have an impact, but in the end, all is the same, so only here and now counts.

And just now I realized, that if I wrote to my present self 20 years from now, that is really all I would write. It’s not exactly the meaning of life, but the meaning of now. Doubts and hopes, regrets and achievements, that’s how I learn, that’s how I live, and I’ll wager that goes for so many more people. And for my achievements to have any meaning, I need to do it on my own. I can’t ask daddy to carry me though this. I need to spread my wings and fly away, for everyone’s sake.

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