This is going to have absolutely nothing to do with Tower.
It is exactly 7:27 p.m. on May 3, 2026. I’m sitting here in the final few weeks of senior year at South, and it’s honestly an interesting thought. I don’t want to sound like those cliché sentimental seniors, so I’ll just write about what my life is currently. Right now, my brain is a constant loop of prom logistics, AP exams, and figuring out how many shifts I’ll be working at the Detroit Yacht Club this summer. As a freshly-turned 18-year-old kid, it’s hard to imagine what I’ll even care about in 10 years. The year 2036 sounds more like a sci-fi movie release date than a real point in my life.
Before I get to that distant future, I want to capture what life looks like right now. Usually, when I wake up, the first thing I do is reach for the Yamaha keyboard in my room or my Taylor acoustic. If I’m feeling lazy, I’m probably scrolling Instagram Reels for too long — unless Scout gets to me first. Lately, he’s been shoving his wet snout into my face at 5 a.m. until I let him out. It’s annoying in the moment, but part of me already knows I’ll miss it someday.
The biggest news in my world is that I’ve officially committed to the University of Michigan. It still feels unreal because freshman-year Anthony would’ve been so proud to hear that. Between classes, I’m usually listening to my playlist “Random good stuff,” which right now sits at 19 hours and 24 minutes of music. I also have years’ worth of voice memos filled with unfinished song ideas that I hope I eventually come back to instead of letting them collect digital dust.
I recently just finished Les Misérables, a production I poured six months of preparation into; it was easily the highlight of my senior year. Looking ahead, I know I want to keep creating — whether that’s theater, film or music. Right now, I’m spending way too much time trying to perfect my Greatest Showman senior solo for Broadway, which I should probably be practicing instead of writing this.
However, the future is a timeline I can’t discover until I’ve lived it. So, I have some questions for “Future Anthony” in 2036:
Do you still reach for your Yamaha or Taylor every morning?
Did you keep the creative dream alive, or did you let it go? If so, did you ever finish any of those three hours’ worth of voice memo ideas?
Are you still in contact with your childhood friends?
Have you finally traveled to the places we always talked about?
Do you still have vivid memories of Scout and Mason — and Lola of course?
How’s the fam? Is Paul a lawyer yet?
Right now, I’m still a kid who needs to ask for my parents’ car keys. In your world, I assume you’re driving your own life. 2036 is a timeline I can’t see yet, which is what drives me insane.
But anyways, ten years later… was the “real world” everything they said it would be?
And most importantly:
Do you miss me right now who’s stuck in 2026?
