…to (my) parents

When I am your age I will be what you want me to be.

I hope.

When I am your age I will be I will be the same as I am now. Jack of all trades, master of none, but still, better than a master of one. (Not that you agree.)

When I am your age I will be an actor on the big screen. A published scientist with feuds and dozens of grants under my belt. A millionaire with a huge mansion and estates and surrounded by empty miles all around. Or maybe not. I wouldn’t know.

When I am your age I will be dead. Or possibly immortal. Maybe my long-chain free fatty-acid intake will be low or high enough to become superhuman.

When I am your age I might be happy. I might be the main character of someone else’s story, but honestly, I’ll still be floating around in the Land of Stories.

I hope that

When I am your age I will be still the same. Maybe you hope different.