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I hate to admit this but I wrote 3 of these woe—and-misery letters in the late ‘90s, when I was a teenager.

One to Bill Gates, one to Bill Roper, and another to Chris Metzen.

I didn’t send them expecting a response, and didn’t even really consider that. The act of writing it down and throwing it out there just lifted my mood somehow, like throwing coins in a fountain.

I didn’t choose Bill Gates, Bill Roper and Chris Metzen because I was expecting anything from them. I chose them because they were significant to me, and connecting what I was going through to them somehow provided relief and made things feel surmountable.

Not saying that’s how a perfectly healthy brain thinks, but that’s how teenage me felt at the time.

The people writing you might be the same way?

Next time you get one of these letters, just think of yourself as the fountain they’re throwing the coins into.






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