|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
Dear Future Self,
Dear Future Me,
I bet you weren't expecting a letter from your past self, were you?
Well, you probably were, considering we're the same person and
you'd have to know I was writing you a letter since you wrote it in the
past so I guess you know already what's in this letter, right? Do I even
need to write it? If I don't write it… will that set off a chain of events
that lead to the you who won't read this being someone completely different!?
I've watched 'Back to the Future' far too many times.
Well, I'm going to write it. I guess I can't offer you infinite insight
about your future since I'm writing forward as opposed to back, and
To My Future SelfTo my Future Self,
Breathe. You must be thinking, seriously, my teen self is acting like an old fart of a teacher telling off overstressed kids, but seriously, breathe. Stop. Pause. Listen. It's your heart beating. It's telling you, I'm beating so damn hard, I might just kill you one day.
Okay, let's digest. There can only be two reasons for your heart to beat like that. One reason is because I wouldn't have changed- I would still be that overzealous, neurotic, depressed teenager with a penchant for word thieves, dream catchers and moment makers. The other reason would be just the opposite: it's beating with life, with purpose, with hope.
I hope you'll be that second person.
Because being that second person means being serenaded by Chopin in a boy's car, travelling down to Bondi Beach watching sculptures rear out of the sea and you're feeling like, maybe, love may finally find you at last. Being that second person means you just won't shut up talking to patrons
Dear You (Or, Alternatively, Me)Dear You (Or, Alternatively, Me) –
I worry about you sometimes.
I worry about how you are doing: who you are spending your time frolicking with, whether or not you have finally kissed someone, if you still get nervous easily. I worry about my friends in your time – are they still our friends? Or have you finally let them all go, or pushed them away, or left like we always dreamed of?
Sometimes I lay in bed in the late hours of the night, dreaming of your life. Do you remember? Do you remember staring at the dark ceiling so long it began turning red, tossing and turning, hoping and dreading what is to come? I wonder if the things I have don
Dear Adult Me.Dear adult me,
I'm tucking this letter safely inside your favorite copy of 'The Dragonlance Series', where I'm sure you're going to find it. Page 241--your page. This book should be worn and weathered by now. I say 'should', because I'm frantically hoping that you're still reading it; because people change and you--we--are no exception.
So, dear future self, it's definitely been a while since I last thought of you. The truth is, I'm afraid to. All those hopeless and overly irrelevant dreams I have right now are probably just a fade memory in your mind. Some of them you probably accomplished. Some others you probably don't even remember; no
Beloved Future Self
Dear Future Self,
Hey, you. Or, alternatively, me. I've never spoken to you before, but I think it's time I did, not for a contest or views but because I know better than anyone that you need it right now.
I know you're hurting and you're scared. I know how you can't look in the mirror without clawing away at yourself and I know you write this with shaking hands and a heavy heart, but this isn't just about you. This is about the little girl you used to be and the little girl out there that's exactly as you were. Because they need you. I need you. Please stop crying each night, this will make you stronger. I know it's hard. I know you don't
Dear Adult MeDear Adult me,
Did you succeed in all those crazy plans you made? Every day I look at my to-do list and just say to myself "Not today." But what about you? Did you get off your lazy butt and actually do those things listed? Did you write those countless stories, play all of those amazing games, learn all the knowledge to satisfy you, listen to every song on those lists received, read every book suggested, and all the while still manage to do the chores at home and hang out with every friend?
There's so much I want to ask you, but there's nothing you can say. I want to know if the life I've made now will be the life I have forever. Some days
Dear Teen MeDear Teen Me ~
You, with the bleu Sharpie pen.
Those ripped leggings are hugging your bones like another layer of skin. Werent you maintaining your weight? Oh, thats right. I remember now. You were spending some more time in that day hospital program. Philhaven. The depression had come back in a rush. It was overwhelming; a tide of uncertainty and anxiety, complete with a bow laced with self-loathing. It was wrapped around you like gauze and medical tape, all melted together as one hard cast. All that weight, Love, and you crashed. You fell under a suffocating blanket of hatred and were constantly shrouded by ribbons of past mi
TnM te amo asta la muerteEsta historia se trata de un chico y una chica
thom: te extrañe en la escuela hoy.Porque no estabas hay?
marie: si...tuve que ir al medico
thom: oh, en serio?.Porque?
marie: nada, nada ... solo unas revisiones anuales
marie: debo hacerte una pregunta...
thom: seguro, dime
marie: Cuanto me amas?
thom: sabes que te amo mas que nada en este mundo...
thom: por que preguntas?
thom: algo anda mal?
marie: no,nada ... ummm ... cuanto te importo?
thom: te daria el mundo en un latido si pudiese
marie: lo harias?
thom: si,lo haria!........ocurre algo malo?
marie: no,todo esta bien...
thom: ok...eso espero
marie: moririas por mi?
thom: recibiria una bala por ti,amor...
marie: de veras?
thom: siempre que fuera necesario...ocurre algo malo?
marie: no,estoy bien,estas bien,todo y todos estan bien...
marie: bueno...nos vemos en la escuela mañana,adios
thom: esta bi
Dear Adult MeDear Adult Me,
Am I still as awkward as I am/was at 16…finally on the cusp of 17? I think I would be since, after all, people can’t change that much.
Oh, what about my relationship with Z, how did that go? It’s alright if you can’t spare the details, I don’t think I want them anyway. Everything always seems better with a surprise.
How did college go? Did I ever find the chance to explore New York the way I wanted, what about my job? Have I risen to the top the way I dream? Oh…can I finally draw? God, I hope so!
Enough questions, I’m sure I still plague myself with them day in and day out, I don&
Dear Adult MeDear Adult Me,
Yes I'm looking at you.
I know it's strange to see that weird girl with the black t-shirt and jeans, both too big for her, staring at you from across a crowded train station, her purple hair standing out miles away.
Think about it though. Don't you remember that tee? The one with the TARDIS and how you yelled in happiness when it came in the mail and jumped around the kitchen counter for a few minutes?
Do you remember me?
Do you remember that grin? The one that you spent a few hours in front of the mirror perfecting when you were 13? The one that you're positive still looks ugly? Does anyone like that grin now? Is there someone
Dear adult me
This is a letter for my future self, my adult self, maybe at 40-45 years old or more :3
If you are not her, don't read that!
First of all! How are you, dear?
I want to ask you some of the questions that are being VERY annoying in my head so I can finally take them out (please, use a time machine to return this letter as soon as posible!):
Did you publish a book or a comic?Did you became an informatic engineer, a freelance illustrator, an hotel director or a marketing gurl?Did you finally found HIM? (yes, HIM, ya know)Where are you living? (please don't tell me you're still living in the same place as now I live!)
Ah! How many questions! But basically these four are the most important of them
I hope you didn't throw away this letter thinking it all was a bad joke... (becaue it isn't!). I will show you: your first cat was called Benito, wasn't him? Weeeeell, now that you don't have doubts about how I am, I shall continue with some a
Dear Future Me
Hey future me...
I don't really know if you are reading this or not...(let's just hope that you stayed a deviantArtist for a while >ww< Vincent, Antonette, Barron, Scarlet. Gilbert, Clementine, Delilah, Ivorine, Sawyer. Grane, Chloe. *and possibly more :0
Future me...please take a look at the Journal
__Not this one. The one I called my "Secret Journal". Don't EVER throw that away...tears have stained within it...it would be madness to rid of it. Keep it safe...
OUR BABIES XD
__By this I mean Bunny. Bunny and Pikapa. ALWAYS KEEP BUNNY WITH YOU<3 He's been with us since we were born...
__When you have kids, show them EFH P, Modeling pi
adult meDear adult me
I hope you will know that life is beautiful. I hope mom is better and your pain goes away. I hope you look at your scars and realize that you were lucky not have died. This will be buried in your purple jewelry box along with your poetry book. i hope you remember it and read this.:)Adult me i hope you have a better life than dad has. And i hope that you can think without crying.Dear adult me i hope you feel better about yourself.
Dear adult me i hope we are better when we are older. and we learn to control these dark waters that hurt us so badly right now
The ListShe has a list.
She has a long, long list, spanning many pages in her notebook. There are pages upon pages, coated in a messy scrawl of blue gel ink that varies in freshness from hours to years.
Every night, she adds to it. Every night, religiously, ever since she can remember. She has to stay up as long as it takes to add whatever she can recall to her list, no matter how tired or how busy she is. If one were to happen past her house on any particular night, odds are the light would be shining brightly as she frantically scribbled in her notebook.
Her list is precious to her. She isn't proud of it, but she needs it with her always.
One SecondDear You,
Yes, I know what you're thinking:
"There's that creepy girl again,
the one that stares at me all day
and gets all nervous when I'm around."
But I have a lot to tell you,
even if you're not reading this,
so just bear with me.
You- yes, you- are ruining my life.
I used to be so content with myself,
convinced that love was pointless
and dating people is just a hassle.
I knew that looks didn't matter,
that I should look out for myself
and not care what other people think.
What have you done with that girl?
I'm wasting all my time on you,
and I know that, but I can't stop.
I worked so hard on that project,
hoping it would be per
Set Yourself Free"To lose control is to be finally free."
How could something so right turn out so wrong?
It's been years since our luck ran out and left us here.
My bones all resonate a burning lullaby.
This world is too much noise.
I long for the moment our silence is broken.
Feet sometimes on solid ground, sometimes at the edge,
I'm standing on the rooftop, ready to fall.
All my fears, my insecurities, are falling like tears.
In that moment, I refused to close my eyes anymore.
Knees are weak; hands are shaking; I can't breathe.
Wait for me now, air's running out.
Make it stop!
I laugh this constant pain away,
But if to live we have to be numb, I'd rath
Edging Toward InsanityI'm frustrated, alone, and happy about it. That basically sums everything up, huh?
My brain feels like it's been transformed into some sort of mushy substance. I can't recall many things running through it, only a few. Want to know what they are? Of course you don't, but I'm going to tell you anyway. There's that fan fiction I was reading before my eyes burned out, a swirling vortex of song lyrics, that math concept everyone seems to get except me, and that grade I never should have gotten.
It wasn't a failure, but it was closer to one than I want at this point. It's a failure in my book. Some voice in the back of my head just screamed, "Us
Do you know the taste of the universe?One day, when you’re five years old and made out of fractured sunlight and mirror shards, you sit down on the bench of the MAX train. You’re dressed in your winter coat and boots that are too big and one of your parents has pulled your hat too close over your ears.
You’re sitting next to your mother, and on the other side is a man that smells like loneliness, something that you’ll later know as cigarettes and alcohol and homelessness. He’s crying quietly into the top of his jacket and you’re scared to look because you’ve never seen an adult cry.
The train ride goes on for five minutes, which is a lo
Keep in Touch!
`anmari has been spreading her infectious positivity throughout our community for over 6 years. Throughout this time Ana has been at the core of all things devious, passionately developing an eclectic gallery, helping organise devmeets, participating in chat events and also recently completed dedicating her time as a Community Volunteer. We are absolutely delighted to bestow the Deviousness Award for May 2013 to `anmari, congratulations! Read More