Dear My Future,
We’ve never met, so allow me to tell you a bit about myself. Before I was a concerned citizen, I was a wide-eyed citizen. Unconcerned with (possibly ignorant of) the inherent hazards of this existence, my eyes blurred as I gazed into the bright light of my own potential. I was certain the world would open herself to me with all the modesty of a drunken sorority sister. I would do no less than change the world. But as I’ve aged my perspective has evolved and frankly, I’m concerned.
As evidence, please consider the preceding decade. The rise of Islamic terrorism, the fall of American hegemony, the warming of the planet, the destruction of American cities, the catastrophic near-fall of our financial system, calamitous wars of choice, and the nagging suspicion that our government would like to tag and track us all like we’re a herd of migrating buffalo lead me to the conclusion that things might not turn out my way. I’d appreciate a heads-up on your part, just so I can plan the rest of my life.
If I’m being paranoid and things turn out well, give me a sign. It should be something I can’t miss like a pair of diamond loafers mysteriously appearing in my mailbox or hundred-dollar bills falling from the sky. That way I can start shopping for top hats and canes and developing a taste for caviar. But if instead you see me wandering the vast wastelands of America battling zombies and scouring the debris of wrecked cities for scraps of food and the remaining drops of gasoline, do nothing. I’ve read The Road, I’ll figure things out.
You’re a cagey bastard. Many claim to understand you, but I suspect few truly do. That kind of special sight is reserved for gods and greater men, I am neither. But I implore you to consider my request in due course. I’m sure we’ll meet eventually. Until then I remain yours…
A Concerned Citizen
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