Hi. So, future me, huh? I've never done this daily before. You know why. I used to hate future me. And I assumed that future me would hate me, too. I think I know that's not true now. Maybe you'll read this in March, for the next time I do this daily. Maybe you'll forget about it and never read it. I don't really know. Maybe you'll come across this some day far in the future when Scratch is barely still compatible with the fancy new technology, hoping to save some memories of your teenage self. Who knows? You don't. I don't. For the longest time, I lived as if the future didn't exist. At first because I didn't care, and later because I didn't want to care. Not anymore. The future is real, and it's coming. I should be prepared, should I not? I'm taking the AMC10 the Tuesday after next, for the first time. Mom wants me to get into the AIME. Something to put on my college application. I can't be "just another genius Asian kid." I have to be smarter, more likeable, better somehow. I hate that. What is there to be "just another" one of? I'm not in the ninety-ninth percentile on nearly every standardized test they made me take so I can be "just another." That's one in a hundred, at the very most. How can I be "just another" one of anything? I've done so much already, and wouldn't staying on this path be enough for anyone else? If I were white? If I were a different minority group? If I'd grown up poorer? I'm sorry. You're probably worrying about the same thing. We're not any sort of genius. Just a smart kid who knows stuff. Just a kid who was taught and had to learn to be smart, because stupid Asians never even make it to the United States, because stupid Asians end up broke and working minimum wage jobs, and that's not what you're parents or their parents or their parents came here for, and you've failed them by not succeeding, haven't you? Sorry again. This was just a nice, lighthearted little letter to my future self, and now I've gone and turned it into some ridiculous rant about racism and the American dream. Oops. Sounds like something someone we once knew would do, doesn't it? A certain girl who was our second ever friend, maybe, who invited us to her bat mitzvah? Where her twin brother's friends made fun of us. Past me, the me who refused to write these letters, hated her. I don't, not anymore. I've learned to let go of the past. Look towards the future. Thanks, I guess.
THIS STUPID THING DECIDED TO COMPLETELY NOT SAVE????? thank whatever god exists that i had it in the word counter-
