Okay, I solved the problem of how to allow my narrator to talk to his younger, more objective self. It’s a bold resolution. Here’s an example of my metamodernism, which comes on the heels of a sexual vignette.
That was a nice little anecdote. But did you really need that to impress them? How do you know they weren’t satisfied with reading about your innocent crush and poetic romanticism before college corrupted you and made you more satyr than human.
I thought it would help them understand the dynamics of my growth. Little juxtaposition, right?
You added it here because you were afraid of sounding weak. That’s okay. Your insecurities are made more interesting through your writing. Right reader? Are you afraid of me, your younger self? Embarrassed?
No. Everyone is young once. It’s a beautiful thing. I wanted to show what kind of person I am and how much I’ve learned since.
Or how much you haven’t learned. You think you’ve become wiser with more experience. But your psychology has only been further engrained. This story helps them see that. I’m not criticizing, just meta-narrating. It’s interesting to watch you try to justify your self. You’re still the same pathetic poet with the capacity to act savagely, that has been tempered with routine and societal convention.
I appreciate your making me vulnerable. I mean it. We’re all vulnerable, and we try to disguise it. And you’re right, maybe I should listen to my animal self more often. Your hyper-exposure allows for greater vulnerability and passion, which I hope leads to better art. So feel free to offer your opinion. You’re my best critic, after all.