Derp.
No one likes to admit they’re wrong. No one.
If someone says they do enjoy being wrong, then they are wrong and should have sand thrown in their face.
Uh, there was a point to this.
Hmm.
Oh. Right.
There seem to be a lot of messages-to-your-sixteen-year old-self floating around on my dashboards/news feeds lately. Most people seem to enjoy telling past-them what not to do. I figured I’d list a few here on the off-chance my past self manages to destroy the space-time continuum and finds this.
So here goes…
Dear past-Cory,
Mum is right - don’t get a tongue ring. I know you think they’re cool, but you’re from Croydon, so your idea of fashionable is debatable.
They’re tacky and gross, and there’s one demographic of people who actually get their tongue pierced: trash. You are not trash, and you will thank mum later in life for never allowing you to get it done.
I know you’re selecting subjects for VCE right about now, but please, for the love of your sanity and ego, son’t choose all science subjects. Let’s not fool ourselves kid - we know we’re not going to be sciency in the long-run, so just choose subjects you’ll actually enjoy.
I mean physics… really? The science that combines the evils of math with all the horrid aspects of science.
On a related note, LEARN TO PLAY THE CELLO. I mean it. Drop that saxophone piece o’ crap (you don’t even like jazz music) and become that classy, cello-playing essence of manhood you know is just waiting to be released.
That’s about it for now. The rest of the mistakes you make in the next few years will teach you some good stuff. You might not like the lessons but they’ll help you grow out of that sarcastic, arrogant fuck wit of a persona thing you’ve got going for you now.
LOVE YOU LONG TIME!
Regards,
Your future self.
PS: don’t.
