Fuck Everyone But Us

We accomplish nothing. This is how we accomplish nothing. Step One, have an idea, it sounds like maybe a good idea to start, just a casual What If that suddenly explodes into What If We Really Did. Step Two, remember we are in the world, that our feet are on the ground, that tomorrow we must go to work (must? must we?), that you can do anything but you can't do everything, remember that somewhere someone is counting on you not to drop everything, not to forget a future that does not exist. Because if we did, would everyone have to consider the possibility? These are the kinds of common-sense revolutionary thoughts we must abandon.
We want to prevent a feeling that might not last, or a feeling that might. We want to prevent the future before it can happen to us, before it can become right now. Right now is what we are hoping all our dreams will become, but right now for us has always had a tinge of dissatisfaction to it, and we are afraid of disappointment, afraid to ruin what may not meet our outrageous expectations [everything].
We book trips we cannot afford, do everything but hit confirm, our maxed out credit card numbers hovering in 16 digits blank white boxes fields of our own identification. We cannot pull the trigger, take that extra step to really go. We know how bad off we are, here, and that is oddly comforting. We have our script of complaints about the present that we would have to shed if we could shed all our possessions and do what it is we claim to wish we could do. We risk heart attacks and lung cancer and driving drunk, but we will not risk traveling or living or falling for someone hard. We will not risk where there might be real returns. We are good at forgetting this is nonsense when we are placating ourselves with our smaller risks, living on the edge of our own dissatisfaction.