Hey man. This is you. I'm pretty much the exact same you as you are now as you read this. Except I've made a huge mistake. A mistake that at one point was a decision I made. I have regretted that decision ever since I made it. So, I'm writing you to tell you not to make the same mistake I did. I don't know if your avoiding this mistake will change the future that I presently live in because we aren't one of these nerd adults who talks about time continuums and all that crap. That's probably because our dad took us outside a lot when we were kids so we turned out pretty damn cool. As a matter of fact, I'd say we turned out great. It's hard to find anything to complain about here. Oh, except for that mistake I was telling you about:
Me-still-in-my-undies: don't put on pants.
It's that simple. It might sound crazy, and crazy is what society would tell you it is, but listen to me. Listen to you. Don't put on pants. No pants, not even a sweet one-legged pair that a version of us from both of our past invented. 'The Pant,' as we call it. You don't need any version of pants. Just stay in just your undies.
Think about it. What do you do when you're the most comfortable? The most relaxed, the most at ease, the most yourself? Easy peasy. You don't wear pants. Whether it be watching a great football game, lying in bed, driving the car (by the way, we still haven't fixed the air conditioner), or paddling the canoe, you're not wearing pants. Sometimes you're wearing a swimsuit, but that counts as underwear. You're doing the right thing when you're not wearing pants. You're happy, you're free, and you're not so damn hot that no one can touch any part of your back ever.
Me-still-in-my-undies, don't worry about what your peers, what your parents, what your houseguests tell you. You can't worry about pleasing other people. You can't change who you are. You can't put on pants. When you wear pants, you're a grouch. Your nards are all mashed up or to the side and your stomach is all constricted, forcing you to eat less. Sure, the pockets are nice, but don't forget that's why they made cup holders in the first place. By the way, that's a good reminder of something else I wanted to tell you--don't forget to put a cup holder in the canoe this weekend. That's yet another great idea you had. Just like this one I'm telling you about. Don't wear pants.
Pants draw attention to your failures. Everyone says to embrace your failures, but that's just because they're failures trying to make themselves feel better. Failures wear pants because pants are failures.
You aren't a failure. You're a winner. Winners never let go of what makes them great, never let go of what their identity is at its core. For you, that core is underwear. You wear underwear at--or rather, over--your core. Underwear is your fundamentals. Underwear is your bounce pass. Stick to underwear.
Yes, your underwear will get holes in them. They will rip. They will lose elasticity. Their fabric will fade. Your underwear will eventually get to the point wear the crotch is just completely blown out so that they are entirely useless. Still, even then, they are your underwear, and therefore they matter. Underwear is all that matters. Keep wearing them. Keep being you.
Me-still-in-my-undies, the world will change a lot in the future. It also won't change at all, because people really overthink stuff. You yourself will change, you yourself will grow, but that doesn't mean you need to let go. Don't let go. Don't let go of who you really are. Keep not wearing pants. Embrace other people for their failures, but don't yourself become one. Worst case scenario, and I'm talking absolute worst case, must-wear-pants scenario, just wear those awesome camouflage overalls you have. They're technically pants, so take that, Aunt Tiffany. It's not even my wedding! So just deal with it, OK?
I hope this letter finds you before it's too late. The day I put on pants was the day I put one foot in the grave. What does everyone get buried in? A nice suit. What's half of a nice suit? A pair of pants. Only failures wear pants, and dead people are the ultimate failures.
Good stuff, my man. Good stuff.