If you could visit yourself at a certain point in your life, with the luxury of greater experience and hindsight, what would you actually say to yourself?

This is the question I have been turning over in my head almost endlessly for the past seven minutes since I rediscovered (with some amusement) this aborted blog.
No doubt there was a time when I was a proud and expectant father, my imagination stretched into the future fueled by the wonder of the endless possibilities of the observations and bon mots with which I would no doubt populate my own corner of the internet. But then what?
Well nothing actually, but still something clearly prevented me from plunging into the world wide womb and committing digital foeticide. What was that force that preserved this snap-shot from three years ago for me to discover today? Providence? Rigid Catholic beliefs? (But at what point is a blog really a blog?) I would imagine it was in fact absentmindedness but nevertheless here it stands and thus here I sit, face to face with it.

So, the question remains; if you could visit yourself at a certain point in your life, with the luxury of greater experience and hindsight, what would you actually say to yourself? Well that would of course depend on the person and the moment. Britney might visit herself in the minutes prior to the shaving and say '...yah might wanna think on that for a moment Brits'. Burroughs might visit himself prior to his infamous William Tell act and go '...psssst, Bill. You don't have a William Tell act'. Tom Cruise might visit himself prior to his first Scientology meeting and go '...seriously Tom, best move ever. Better decision than Top Gun and Days of Thunder put together. Oh and Tom, you look great'.

So here lies the crux of the matter; if I were to visit myself at the start of my PGCE course, after my first day, arms loaded down with all those bloody pointless folders what would I actually say to myself?

Don't do it? Well no, probably not. I lack the imagination to do anything else and I still get a kick out of hearing kids say things like '...up your fanny...' and '...sir, what does tea bagging mean?' (Both from today.)

Perhaps I would be able to offer myself a sage piece of advice on an event that would come in the following three years, but what? I literally have nothing. It seems such an opportunity would be wasted on me.

If I ever come face to face with myself during any previous moment in my life I'll probs just leave it, all that is apart from that moment when I must have thought 'Rage against the machine are great, I should definitely grow dreadlocks.' That and the time that I also must have thought '...everyone's doing it and they're all so witty and insightful, you should write a blog too, they'll love it.'