Don’t wait too long

People wait too long and die too early.

They talk about future plans and fallen star wishes.

They write down ideas on cocktail napkins and leave them in drawers to decay.

They wallow in wet puddles over the dreams that were never even spilt because they held them too close to the heart.

They keep their desires quiet, disguised as “maybe somedays” or “when the timing’s right.”

Because it’s easier to whisper a wish than to shout it and watch it echo back in silence.

Easier to stay a shallow success than risk becoming a deep failure.

The problem is- People wait too long to start on the path of their visions,

But they die too early.

Sometimes it’s a physical death.

The kind where the body wears out and the spirit fades with it.

The kind where the dreams go to the grave untouched.

Bones stiff, voice quieted, heart still full of what ifs.

But more often, it’s a quieter death.

A metaphorical one.

Where the sparkle in the eye goes dull.

Where risk is traded for routine, and comfort becomes the coffin.

They give up too soon.

At the first sign of resistance, they run backward-

Convincing themselves that the cage was cozy after all.

That the dream was too big, and trying was too much.

Because it feels good to live like a king in a world built for you.

To sit on a throne made of societal praise and predictable patterns.

And it feels foolish to fumble through the wild unknown.

To trip. To get messy. To be seen wanting more.

But that’s where the soul lives.

Not in the palace.

But in the wilderness.