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It's not controversial to say that the internet has gotten so stale nowadays, right? In the natural human desire to innovate and optimize, we’ve consolidated ourselves to only a couple of sites that provide relatively similar content, doing anything they can to keep our attention for as long as we allow them to siphon money from us. I feel like I was born at a perfect time where I can sort of remember the early 2010’s era of the internet where this trend was only starting to begin, and the computer was some arcane magical device that brought me Super Mario videos if I could figure out how to spell it. Being a lot older and slightly more pathologically curious, I spend a lot of time online reading about things that interest me, which unsurprisingly includes the internet itself. While doing research, I’ve noticed that writing a webpage in html and sending it to friends was much more commonplace in the early adoption of the internet, before the institution of social media platforms, and that fascinated me. Such a task feels oddly intimate, like receiving a letter in the mail, but with the benefit of being able to see it wherever you can find the internet. So, allow me to attempt to replicate that experience.

It's frustrating, you know. No matter where I am, no matter what I do, you always seem to outclass me in anything I want to get good at. Physics? It’s like second-nature for you. Mathematics? You’ve already completed a college-level math course. Hell, I ended up sacrificing sleep and sanity to go to Brookhaven every day for the summer, just to realize you’re already there, doing the same thing online. This isn’t a statement out of jealousy, mind you, but an amused awe. You remind me of what is possible out there, and in a more selfish manner, getting on your level was the carrot on my metaphorical hamster wheel.

It would be easy to discount you by claiming that you are just naturally talented at everything, but we both know that’s not entirely true. I used to sing in New Visions, even going to a camp for it. I wasn’t a Michael Jackson by any means, but I did well enough back then to not have to practice to get into the select chorale back then. I remember back in Atkinson, where we both were in the chorus, and I think we can both admit that you weren’t the best. I later quit the Atkinson chorus out of pure laziness, but you persisted. In the time where I started things and quit, you kept training and perfecting your craft, and it is incredible hearing how good you are now. That doesn’t come from natural talent. You worked for that, and nobody can take that away from you.

Whatever you do in the future, remember to keep that hunger for success, and it will come. You absolutely have what it takes.

Anyway, the communication line is always open. At the bottom of this page, you can find my contact information. The website itself will be updated to include projects I’m working on, if you’re curious. If you want to get in contact with me for any reason, don’t hesitate to reach me at the contacts on the website.

I wish you the absolute best that this life has to offer. I hope this letter serves as an adequate acknowledgement of the benefit that you have brought into my life. May God bless your journey ahead, even if you don’t believe in Him. I’ll leave off with one of my favorite quotes by Henry David Thoreau in his journal, Walden, “Only that day dawns to which we are awake. There is more day to dawn. The sun is but a morning star.” In no uncertain terms, every day is an opportunity to move forward and improve on yourself—to awaken to your own becoming, to rise toward the life only you can create. I still have much yet to learn, but I’m glad I was able to learn alongside you.