I'm thankful for all of the people who have gotten me to this point in my life. I don't have words to say how much their support means to me. I hope that I can continue to live up to their expectations. I aspire to be as wonderful as they have been, and I look forward to someday having the opportunity to tell them all how grateful I am for everything they have done.
I've been cleaning and trying to minimize the amount of stuff that I've accumulated- and it hasn't been easy. I'm sentimental, and I tend to collect things. I have a shelf full of half used spiral notebooks beside my bed, and I add to the collection regularly. It's a stack that has been growing since the sixth grade, when I first began to write. Flipping through one of these notebooks last weekend, I belatedly discovered a note intended for my eighteen year old self, written on the day before my fourteenth birthday.
“If it wouldn’t cause the world to explode, it would be cool to meet you. But, since there is currently no way for me to travel forward in time, I’m doing the next best thing: I’m making my own time capsule.
Why? Because I want you to be me. (That probably won’t make sense to me/you/us in four years, so let me explain.) I don’t want to lose what I believe in. I don’t want things that are meaningful now to lose their meaning. But, if it does happen that I change, I want to at least be able to remember why things were important. And maybe, that way, they will gain value again.
… Live life passionately. Have passion in everything you do: drawing, writing, and art in general. I want art to be a big part of your life. And love. Love people who love you.
These are the last words I’m writing as a 13 year old. Goodnight!”
It's always good to know that somewhere in the back of my head, or in the bookshelves in my room, there has been this awkward and gangly version of myself hiding and waiting for me to remember her. She's been my biggest fan. I hope that I've made her proud.