LETTER TO MY YOUNGER SELF
I wanted to douse their precious sport with kerosine and take a match to it, watching it burn to an unrecognisable crisp.
He slaloms past futile tackles that leave me questioning whether he’d be a gold medalist at the Winter Olympics.
He is meticulous with his trash-talking. An art form that isn't directionless, but can be backed by the statistics-savvy fiends.
There is going to be one phrase that you are going to grow into that will essentially be your mantra in life...
You’re going to go through phases in life where you won’t properly know who you are and where you fit within groups of friends.
But let me just say this Iuri, Right now you’re reading this letter thinking, who it’s from and why it came from the future.