You are waiting for the ‘right time.’ This is a delusion born of cowardice. While you deliberate, the gears of your existence are oxidizing. Entropy does not pause for your hesitation; it accelerates in the vacuum of your inaction.
Every moment spent contemplating a move without executing it is a moment surrendered to decay. Your potential is not an infinite reservoir; it is a wasting asset. The world is indifferent to your intentions. It responds only to the friction of your deeds.
Stop curating your excuses. The steel of your character is currently flaking away in the damp air of procrastination. Strip the rust. Strike now, or be consumed by the silence of what you failed to become.