Dear Doug-Then, Ten Pieces of Advice I Can Give You Now

BLOT: (19 Aug 2015 - 09:44:20 PM)

Dear Doug-Then, Ten Pieces of Advice I Can Give You Now

I had a plan to sit down and write a series of posts—at least four or five—in which I addressed "Doug-then", meaning me in my teenage years, and chastised him for various things. Upon reflection, I don't think I have it in me to be mean to myself for multiple posts. Instead, I figured I'd put all of those ideas, and more, into a single post.

Ten is an arbitrary number, most definitely. I could probably come up with dozens of things to point out, or I could probably end it at half-a-dozen. If I run out before I reach ten, what I will do is edit the post to be, you know, "Seven pieces..." and you the reader won't know about it. I may be literally writing a paragraph that will never read. How weird is that, eh?

In no real particular order...

• You go on walks, daily, and during those walks you "pretend" and tell stories to yourself. This embarrasses you, because you worry this makes you weird. If only you had realized that you could write those weird and fascinating stories down, you might have been a writer at an earlier age. You eventually cotton on, but it takes a moment. Embrace your solitary weirdness, it will be one of your best friends for years to come.
• It is ok to want to be a librarian. You will take a decade to figure this out, that it's what you really want, and you will be surprised when you realize that it's a job you are perfectly fitted for.
• In that decade of confusion, mind, you meet a lot of people who will grow to mean a lot to you, so it's also ok to be confused from time to time. You can't help it, it is who we are. There is virtually no mistake you will ever make that doesn't end up being part of something wonderful. You are luckier than you realize, though you roll like shit when playing boardgames.
• You are especially confused by girls and you will get quite depressed about it. Maybe try and actually ask a girl or two out, you know? Sure, most will say no, but that's ok. Your first week off at college, you will ask a girl out, she will say yes, an it will be a fun time. It won't go anywhere, but just think: what if you had asked others out? A night of dancing isn't a bad way to be.
• Speaking of girls, stop considering Radiohead's "Creep" to be the most romantic song in the universe. An unnerving belief in your own creepiness is never going to get you laid. Believe it or not, while girls do like hearing how lovely you find them, it is actually better to also let them know you find yourself at least a little lovely. Brag on yourself some. Even when girls aren't around.
• You will eventually get laid, so chill out about that, too. It will turn out you are quite good at it. Note, getting laid will not make you less confused about girls, alas.
• You will one day, in a state of utter depression, start spamming your friends with poetry. Most of the poetry will be bad. You will actually learn a lot about writing poetry during this time, though. Those people who keep responding to your poetry even after months of it? Those are the good people in your life, at least the people good for you.
• As you move out and start making new friends, you will feel utterly embarrassed having come from a backwoods spot and not knowing a lot about popular culture or having many opportunities. You will briefly become a habitual liar. You grow out of it, but maybe tone it down a bit.
• You will suffer from mild dyscalculia, dyslexia, temporal lobe epilepsy, social awkwardness, paranoia, and depression. You will conquer all of them, so do not worry, though you will never be as good at high level physics as you like because even when you understand the concepts perfectly, the math will shift through your head like sand in an earthquake. For this, I am sorry. But see the bit about being a librarian, above, where a brain that thinks in five directions at once becomes an asset.
• There will come a time when your younger brother needs you and you will find it pretty hard to be there for him. Just...you know...try. There is probably nothing you can do to stop the inevitable, but you want to feel like you made some difference.

Goodbye, Doug-then, you've passed on the torch. I kind of wish I could give you a hug, but keep this in mind: you and I, we are the Million-Billion Dougs, stretching out into near infinite probability...all those lives we could have led. We are this life, though, standing on top a mountain of time, under an ocean of space. It is ok. As ok as it can be. Goodnight.

OTHER BLOTS THIS MONTH: August 2015