You're forgetting why you're doing this. You're forgetting why you're here. This has become a chore, hasn't it? It's become so last-minute, so secondary, so unimportant. Hasn't it? You don't think so? Let's hear your argument then.
That's what I thought.
Go back. Go back to the time when you said, Yes, this is what I will do. Go back to the place where it was a good idea, where you were full of good ideas. What's changed? Hmm? what has changed? Are you not having fun anymore, are you older, are you more cynical, what have you lost, what have you gained, is it something tangible or something that's far harder to measure? Is it in your pocket, up your sleeve, in your glass? Have you any glass at all? Have you a care in the world, or too many, and which is worse? Are you asking yourself Why too much? Not enough? Have you moved on from Why at all?
Ah, see, there it is. That's why this is a chore. You haven't moved on. You're still in the same place you were when you started. It's become a mystery. Because it was supposed to be a journey, yet here you are. Peddling a stationary bicycle. Sweating, panting. Exhausted, going nowhere.
Now you know what needs to be done. Will you do it? Will it be too late?
No. It is never too late.
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