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I wrote myself a letter as though I was 85 and it was saying it made me think about was I brave enough to tell the stories I want to say? Did I actually keep hiding behind my own insecurities and my thoughts? Or did I seize this beautiful, precious life that we get in all that space and time? Come on. Like, get over yourself. Like, say what you want to say. That sort of stayed with me, I guess.