EPISTLE FOR A WORK IN PROGRESS

dear future self—this is just to say that, if anarchism has been realized
on some large scale by the time you read this, i hope i helped—to
some minor extent—that the occasional missed event or  

sloppily phrased communiqué didn’t stress you out too much. i used
to think you’d see me as a martyr for the life you have now—and
now i know i’m your cautionary tale, your burnt-out skeleton in the
closet that once was, your piling on ten tasks when a boundary
would do, the ringing in your ears after you say no  

this is just to say that i’m sorry for the memories, although i hope
at least some of them make you interesting at parties. this is just
to say that i miss you. this is just to dream of a day  

when time collapses and you and i go out for
a coffee and fresh gossip, an apology note—i say
that i tried to protect you—stay safe, stay dangerous—you
smirk, telling me that i need you more than you need me.