The universe doesn’t care about your intentions. It only registers your actions. Entropy marches on, a relentless tide turning potential into dust. Each unseized moment, each deferred choice, is a grain added to the mounting heap of what could have been.
Look around. See the dust? That’s wasted time. That’s procrastination personified. That’s the slow, silent accusation of unrealized ambitions. Are you comfortable contributing to the cosmic landfill?
Comfort is the enemy. Complacency is a cancer. Every breath not spent striving, every hour squandered in idleness, hardens the shell of your regrets. Decide. Act. Now. Before the dust claims you too.
The clock isn’t ticking; it’s detonating.