2am. The all-too-familiar feeling creeps in. Another day has passed, and nothing’s changed.
What is it about the comfort of knowing there will be another day—another chance to turn it all around? This poison of apparent comfort kills slowly but surely. You really have no days. No time at all. Your past self wasted time because he didn’t know better, and your present self does so in spite of it.
Oh, how the mighty have fallen.
But this doesn’t have to be the end of your story.
It will be—only if you let it.
I’ll wait while you scroll. Maybe the next reel will be the one of value.
You already know what you have to do.
You’re just too much of a coward to do it.
So you will do it. Just tomorrow.
