Dear Punkass,
Yeah, I’m calling you a punkass. Look kid, I know you were probably so high that you forgot to check the mail when you walked down the driveway. That’s part of the problem. You need to do some homework. Stop chasing girls for a few years. Clean your fucking room, punk. Grow the fuck up.

Years from now, you’re going to wish you had done some homework. Those honors classes you hate because all of your friends aren’t in them? Go to them. Do the work. Those friends will be dead, incarcerated, or lost in a sea of addiction in about twelve years. Those people you’re working so hard to distance yourself from in an attempt to be cool are, in fact, your people. You’re a geek. Get over it. This is not the worst thing that can happen to you.

Condemning yourself to a life of hard work and mediocrity through a youth of hedonism and indifference towards the future makes for good stories, yes, but it makes for a really shitty end game. And yes, there is life past 27.

Get it done.
Your future self