To somebody

Dear somebody,

I wish some bullshit cards could tell me my future. I deserve it because I already paid that  lady sixty bucks to draw them out of a stacked deck. I googled my horoscope, his horoscope, and my shitty neighbor’s horoscope but those internet crapshoots can’t tell me crap. I used to write the horoscope for the school newspaper, I literally searched the internet to plagiarize astrology. When I was thirteen, I told someone at a wedding that I wanted to be an astrologer because I didn’t know I had meant to say astronomer. I heard the radio one day that said the President of the United States had a political science degree from some ritzy Ivy League school. When we’re young we all want to be a princess, president, or dictator; now my presidential dreams were crushed because I didn’t know a thing about politics. Never in a million years did I think I’d be a political science major. Guess what? My American Presidency final is this Friday at 8am. Until this year I didn’t fully understand what the Watergate Scandal, and I still don’t know what the VP does other than serve as a backup. God forbid Biden becomes president. Speaking of the Big Man, I haven’t believed him since seventh grade but I still put up a Christmas tree. I don’t know if Festivus will ever catch on, instead of airing my grievances I lead grace. I grieve the old days in which I didn’t understand the world. I still thinking I’m growing up, but I think I’ve arrived at my destination.

Best,

Somebody