Author's Notes
During these posts, I went under the pen name "Dabido".
"Dabido" is my old brand name for my old YouTube channel and publication "The Dabido Blog".
I no longer go under this name, but these published drafts will. Hope this helps!
Dear, Future Me
Originally Published: May 23, 2024
A quiet breeze in an autumn morning.
I sip my coffee, just brewed from a pre-made pod of coffee and half of the glass filled with milk.
I hold my cellular device, a blank page of the Notes app approaches me.
“Dear future me,” I type in calmness and tranquility, sipping my coffee from moment to moment.
“How’s mum today? I’m sure five years from the time of writing this, she’ll be alright.
A dream’s a dream, but I really hope I can get some good, fashionable clothing. Clothing fashionable enough for an enjoyable autumn walk.
I imagine I can just walk to the bakery and grab a cinnamon roll. Head to work, and change to a good attire from there.
I wonder what job we get. I really do. From the time I’m writing this, I don’t really have any future job.
Weird, I know. When you think of the youth of the generations before you, they always knew what they wanted to become.
Maybe by the time you’re reading this, you’ll figure it out. After all, it’s an issue for you … not old, past me."
I swiftly type these fluent words that flow endlessly through my joints and fingers, presenting an abrupt break as I let go of my phone.
“Nak, nasaan yung gamit mo?”
“Ah, I’ll get ready soon … don’t worry.”
My mum shares a nod of approval, but she’s really expecting me to get to actually packing. After all, today’s a school day.
Maybe I’ll be able to continue writing soon, if I don’t forget.
I wonder if I’ll forget my past, and never look back.
I hope I look at my past letters.
Knowing that …
I have grown,
so much.
First of all, thank you for reading my little short story today. It’s not super-related to real life, but it has some true story elements to it.
Second of all, my posts haven’t been super frequent recently since I’ve been working on a little project of mine called Flowpen. Working with a group and actually finding a group of writers that has the potential to be dedicated to storytelling is insane… so, I’m really excited! To avoid pressure, I’m not putting an ETA on when the next post for Flowpen is. However, stay tuned and you should definitely check it out when you have free time!
I apologise for the “filler” post today, since I felt the need to get this idea out to myself as a record and for you all to read. I didn’t really have much to expand out of this idea, but I thought it would be fun to go with relating real-life aspects and imaginary ideas.
Anyway, thank you for reading as always! See you around, fellow readers and writers.
Sincerely,
Dabido
(P.S. This publication has been quite a bit of work for me, and I actually enjoy writing the stuff here. The results from it has surprised me as well, as I’ve met a bunch of great writers and connected more with my friends on deeper topics. Sharing this publication would really help me, and maybe it might help you too!)
Dear, Future Me - Family
Originally Published: June 3, 2024
Ahem.
It's finally winter since it's June. The morning rises, but the fog overshadows the sunlight that makes the skies so clear. It's getting cold, really cold.
I sip my hot chocolate and wear my school outfit, with my scarf snuggly fit on my neck like a suit tie. Well, I don't really know how to tie a tie.
Then, my Notes app opens. A string of text presents me with a question, a question I wrote during a moment yesterday.
"If you could say anything to your future self, what would you say?"
I look at it, sitting down on my chair.
Then I eagerly type, clicking virtual keys until it makes a coherent sentence and consistent lines of words.
"Dear future me, yes it's another letter.
I don't get the obsession with writing these pointless letters, but here goes nothing I guess.
Maybe I'll regret saying that in the future.
I don't know when or if I'll read this, but hi. Hi, future David. How is mum doing? Is dad doing well too?
I've always thought we were a noisy family, but we're really calm since we're basically just like in our isolated boxes.
I always hated talking about family, it just never clicked with me. My mum and dad are good people in their own ways, but I never had to say anything about my family that was special. After all, I'm just an only child.
I love my mum very much, and I'm starting to love my dad more in my own way. Since I'm an only child, I always had the luxury of working hard but also getting what I want as long as I do my best and focus on my studies. Fun, isn't it?
However, I always thought having a sibling was nice as well. Having someone be with you your whole life, supporting you, and all that. Well, maybe not all siblings. Sometimes, siblings can be annoying too from what I heard.
My family, even if I don't talk about it much and I "don't care" about it much, I really do realise that no matter what happens, even if the world falls apart, your family will be with you and you will be with your family. After all, you're blood-tied, right?
Anyway, I hope our family's still doing well. Look after them, alright? Just, don't make it feel like an obligation ... do it because you love them."
After that, I sit down realising that I might be late for school, which should never happen.
Welp, see you later, too-da-loo!
Dear, Future Me - Summer Sunset
Originally Written: December 25, 2024
It starts off like this. A calm walk in the mind, to an endless stream of consciousness.
I type again, on this bright page of light hosted on the internet.
“Dear future me, or should I say . . . dear future David?”
“It’s Christmas, again. At first, I thought Christmas would be a holly jolly day like it always has been.
Do you feel like that now? Right now, I don’t.
It’s summer, and it’s blazing here. In other parts of the world, they’re most likely enjoying a cup of joe or maybe some hot tea.
And, I’m at the age where I just don’t know where I am — or who I am.
Do you know who you are, and where you are?”
The feed of music echoing through the headphones and into my ears become more intense, as the piano swiftly plays its notes and tones.
“Future David, I don’t know if this summer could go any faster. January is always depressing and I always thought December was more cheery but now . . . I don’t know.
I’m happy, and I enjoy the things I do and like. I talk to friends, I cheer ‘em up, I enjoy spending time with them, I play games, and it energises my spirit.
But now, I’m at the age where I feel like I’m in limbo. I turned 15 a few months ago, and it was good. I felt like I belonged. But now, everything feels distant.
It’s not that everyone has left, but more so the dread and the worries of a future sorrow I may face. The future where everyone is gone, and I’m left alone to rot in my room.
Did you ever feel like that, Future David?
Do you feel like that?
I remember when I was worried that people would call me emo, and maybe I am. I’ve accepted that I’m emotional, and maybe a weird person. A good weird.
But does anyone ever see that part of you? The part where pieces of a tiny puzzle lie on the soft grass in your ideal mindspace.
Do you feel like you know yourself?
Is your sense of identity there?
I long for it, and maybe it will come to me someday.
The world is not calm anymore. Sometimes, I long for the tranquility of fresh leaves in the breeze, yet no annoying bugs that plague the air.
While I am content with what I have, there’s always that sense of structure. Too much structure. So much so that I have stuck to laws inside of my head, and rules that I have to follow.
It’s not that I want to break the rules that are considered as basic human morality, human decency, and virtuous morals. It’s more so, I feel held back.
I have everything I want,
everything I need,
every friend that I can go to in need,
every family member that I can resort to,
every piece of faith that I require,
yet still, at the same time . . .
it feels lonely, and it feels like there is an unfinished symphony
awaiting, and longing (like I have) to be finished.
Why did Christmas have to be so depressing?”
I laugh to myself, writing such a sudden question. Then again, I continue to type swiftly.
“Was this supposed to be? Or was this my fault all over again?
I want to know who you are, or who I will be.
To know what was meant to be, and what was not.”
The piano grows louder, and louder. The sound echoes heavier in my head.
"So, Future David.
It’s been all about me. I, me, not you.
So in order to be happy with the fact that this hasn’t been a mysterious rant to a future that I will never know,
and in order to feel content with myself,
I ask this question on your behalf.
How have you been?”
And so, the piano’s tempo paces down. The notes play slower and slower, as it comes to a close. I write the last few words down. My conclusion.
“And at last I end this letter,
just like how . . .
every beginning has an end.
Nothing in this world we live in is permanent,
but will you please make sure that the moments we have
are not just temporary glimpses
but memories to cherish forever?
Will you make that promise for me?
And will you tell me, if you committed to that promise?
Adieu, my friend. Myself.
Sincerely,
David of 2024”
The sounds of the keyboard stops. I look at the screen again, checking and checking, over and over again, is it the right thing to send this?
I contemplate once more. I say to myself, “there’s no more turning back”.
I close my eyes.
Hey everyone, long time no see. I wanted to make a personal letter to myself, but I thought that sharing it to you all would be beneficial to my wellbeing. Knowing that I don’t have to hide myself, and isolate myself again and again.
You don’t have to take this to heart. In fact, I don’t expect anyone to take this with face value, and call it reality as it can be anything that your heart interprets it to be. But at the same time, I personally feel that it is good to have a way to connect with a snapshot of myself.
I apologise for my absence for these past few months. I have been stressed and pressured with work, as well as personal problems that I cannot share. However, the holidays have happened and I may post occasionally on this publication. Even with the sorrowful tone of this letter, I hope that everyone has a happy holiday and a merry Christmas!
Until we meet again,
Dabido.