Dear Past Self (Pt. 3)

Dear Past Self,
You’re at a wonderful point in your life.
You’re young, naive, and well, completely unaware of the fact that people around you are completely full of shit.
You know all those “HAGS” (Have a Great Summer) and “KIT” (Keep in Touch) that are in your yearbook.
You talk to less than half those people now. hell, you only remember about a quarter of ‘em.
But ya know what’s the real kick in the pants?
You’re still stupid enough to believe what your parents tell you.
“Good grades matter!”
Not when you go to art school, sucka!
“Talent counts for something!”
Um… yeah, buddy, you’re in LA now. Your waist size counts for more than your talent.
Unless, of course, by “talent” your parents meant “your penis” because I’m pretty sure most people around here have slept with at least one person to get ahead in business.
But it’s okay, Past Self. You can get away with the moral superiority.
Ya know why? Because you’re currently broke, so nobody listens to you much anyways.
Enjoy ignorance, buddy! because when puberty sets in, it’s all downhill from there.
Sincerely,
Calhoun