Write a letter to your 13 year old {sic} self. (reach-back to 2013)

Dear Me,

I think you’re probably seeing that things are changing rapidly. You’re living there in a place that’ll look absolutely nothing like you’re accustomed to.

Don’t take “we think you’ve got mono” as an answer when it comes to medical stuff. You’re not a ladies’ man, and you really will never be. But what you’re going through is something else, entirely. When they finally figure it out, when you’re 30, things will make a lot more sense. No, I’m not going to tell you what it is, because it was a very dire diagnosis back then. It probably isn’t going to kill you, which probably would have been something you’d have been told were you diagnosed now.

You will marry. I won’t tell you much about her, as she’s very young right now. But you’ll feel differently about her than you ever thought possible.

Stick around with the Saints and Royals. Good things will come, though it may seem very bleak for a long time.

A character currently portrayed by Phil Hartman on Saturday Night Live will end up as President. The election will surprise lots of people, but it’s not the world-ending catastrophe that some people say it will be. The SNL actor’s career is cut very short, but I won’t tell you why.

Brush your teeth. Just say, “no.” Avoid alcohol and tobacco.

Some day Informer will be a tool of ridicule; he won’t have another hit.

Not a lot more to add to this. It did get things moving thought-wise, though, so not a bad prompt.

How do I tell myself a few things to look out for, without telling the full story? Donald Trump is going to be President, and Phil Hartman is going to get murdered in bed by the crazy blonde he’d married.

I do hope I’ll be able to write in the future.