Much of what I compose never finds its way beyond the drafting folder. Under a bit of a melancholic mood, I put together what could be a letter to myself of fifteen or twenty years prior. But if it can be to the benefit of any soul who happens to be similarly positioned as I had, then I see no reason to keep it all to myself. Redacted a bit to preserve personal details. Dear self You do not require anyone’s permission, or anyone’s blessing, to go and pursue the things you want to do in li...
