The following is an e-mail from the past, composed 4 years ago, on February 29, 2008. It is being delivered from the past through FutureMe.org
It’s leap year today, in the year of 2008. That’d make me a Freshman at UCLA. It’s strange to be writing a letter to myself, but I guess I can just take this as a letter to anonymous. Like a blog, maybe, or a diary entry.
I wonder what I would want to know about myself in the future. Over the summer, I received that letter that we wrote to ourselves in 6th grade with Ms. Stull… the things I put in that letter were pretty lame. Like my favorite song, favorite movie, favorite color. And the friends that I had back in super six. It’s interesting to think that those were the things that I found to be the most important to me. What’s important to me now, though? I guess it’s still people, but it’s an intimidating thought, to imagine what kind of company I’ll still have in four years. I mean, not genres of people, but rather, specific friends I’ve made over the years. People come and go so quickly, it seems, especially in college. Or maybe that’s just my excuse. In four years, my high school friends (namely ISB class of 2008 and Mike Wu) will be in college. And graduating, actually. To me, graduation from college seems like it’ll be a really long time from now. But the senior friends that I have right now say that their college experience went by too quickly. As we get older, I suppose time passes more quickly. Is that something lost, or is it something to be taken advantage of? I hardly remember anything from when I was young (elementary school), but the lessons I’ve learned, and things I’ve experienced in high school are precious to me. Maybe it’s a question of consciousness. It’s not like I knew what was really going on when I was seven years old. On the other hand, I hardly know what’s going around me now. I’m painfully unknowledgeable. And yet, I’m not doing anything about it. I hope I can learn. But that’s all I can hope for.
Yeah, seriously, I don’t know what to write. I got a tattoo a little more than a month ago. I guess what I’d want to hear about the most would be my thoughts on certain decisions I’ve made (and not made). I’ve had too many problems with being fickle and indecisive, but in the end, it just seems like… eh, lost my train of thought. Anyway, my tattoo, of the last character of my Chinese name. When people ask me what it is, I only tell them what it is on the surface. But when I’m answering, I think about why I did it. My name, my identity. It’s something that it’s easy to lose track of. A tattoo is so definite, so defining, that whatever it is just seems to prove a little part of who one is. It’s not just my name, my culture. But the reasons behind the design of it. Not solely the physical design but I guess the mental side of it as well? I’ve always found it hard to describe my conceptual understanding of things. Art. Life. (Maybe those two are equivalent.) But alas, it’s late now, and I’m going to go celebrate leap year. I hope the system doesn’t crash because of the date…
PS. Dennis wants me to say he’s cool. Well, that’s unfortunate… because putting “Dennis is cool” in here is … lame. Too late, though.
PPS. I hope I’m still friends with Will, Heather, Kristen, Rose, Mike, Kency, Emili, Layla, Dennis, Stacey, Frances, Esther, June, Emma… and everyone else awesome. If not, go get in touch with them again!