Wednesday, April 1, 2009

"We're Goin' Back In Time!"

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I have always wondered what I would say to myself if I went back in time and could give myself some advice. The picture above is from last year and when I was 17. Look at that neck. Man, I remember what it was like to be that skinny and cringe. Now guys are trying to get that bony on purpose. Scary. That picture also had to have been taken sometime close to when I lost my virginity. Here is what a conversation would have been like.

17: Where did you come from?

30: The future.

17: Liar.

30: We don’t have that much time. Listen, you skinny son of a bitch.

17: When did I start cursing?!

30: In about 5 years. But that’s not important. Don’t have sex.

17: Nobody is trying to have sex with me. Right?

30: That’s what I thought, I mean you thought. But she wants to but you cant do it.

17: Why? I’ve been wanting to have sex for years now!

30: Dude, trust me.

17: I still say “dude”? Really? That’s sad.

30: Yes, and you still say “really?” so get over it.

17: Okay, say I believe you. What should I do? How do I know the day I’ll have sex? Is there a sign?

30: There are so many signs! You ruin Charlie (note: Charlie is a jacket that belonged to my grandfather) on a telephone pole, miss the bus, and get a ride from Gloria and Cejo.

17: Oh, God…

30: Exactly. So on that day just stay at home. Go play a video game. Paint your nails. Whatever. Just don’t go over her house.

17: Okay. Thanks.

30: No problem, fool. And don’t worry about being this skinny forever. There is so much I want to tell you but I don’t wanna fuck up time space and all that science shit. There is some rough times coming but at least I can help you out with this.

17: Whatever, dude. How old are you anyway?

30: I’m 30. Not bad, huh?

17: At least I grew some more.

30: Yeah. So remember: No sex until you’re past 25. And don’t date anyone else.

17: Are you kidding?!

30: Not at all! For serious, don’t date. Don’t have sex. I know it seems crazy but its not. You’ll save us a lot of grief.

17: I’ll try.

30: That’s all I can ask. Oh, and get a job. Now! And you start going to church…

17: Huh…?!

I could tell myself all kinds of other crap like about the death of my brother but I think that I would send myself into a horrible ass depression. Hell, maybe by telling myself not to have sex I would have had sex with someone even worse. Who knows? That’s the problem with time travel. I would tell my 5 year old self that my teeth grow in right and I do get tall. I would tell junior high me that I don’t stay fat and grow. I would tell 21 year old me to get out of my relationship and concentrate on writing more. There is so much crap you could tell the younger versions of yourself but you never know what would happen to you. I guess its good that time travel doesn’t exist.

Yet.

Rockets.

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