a letter to myself 10 years ago, from myself today (idea lifted from d.e.)

dear peter,

the first and foremost. i miss you. not the people around you or the world you call yours. i am not who you think i am. i am not who they say i am- by "they" i mean the lovers and the haters. i am in between, still normal and ordinary. i dont know what you would think about the place i am standing right now. its funny i never pictured myself here, simply because i did not picture myself existing anymore. i am sure you know what i am getting at. its kind of funny almost. after seeing the top and the bottom. id have to say there is a much better view from the top, but you have alot more friends at the bottom. even when im trying to disappear its halfhearted. im almost there. you know? the only thing you got is that goddamned pen forever. it will be buried in your hand. youre gonna learn alot of things but none of them will include: unconditional love, modesty, grammar, or impulse control. id like to think that you wouldnt hate me. but who am i kidding? spotlight or no spotlight thats always kind of been your thing- its just kind of funny that its in fashion right now. i never did anything just for a buck back then, and i still wont. dont give up on me. in some ways i think i am walking away from all of this as we speak. here are some books you should read they will make your head rest easier at night, more importantly they will help you understand yourself:

the old man and the sea
our lady of the flowers
the green hills of africa
the motel life
the every boy
the heart of darkness
first love, last rites

take care of yourself. i am waiting on a letter from ten years from now.