Fuckism: Half-assing it? That’s just preloading your excuse.
You showed up.
Sort of.
You did the work.
Kind of.
You said you’d give it your all—
Then handed it your maybe.
And now?
You’re prepping your apology like it’s a backup plan.
“Things got busy.”
“Wasn’t the right time.”
“I didn’t really want it anyway.”
Bullshit.
You wanted the out more than the outcome.
You wanted to say you tried—without actually risking the sting of trying.
Because if you half-ass it, you never really fail, right?
Wrong.
You fail twice.
Once in effort.
Once in ownership.
Full-ass your shit.
Even if it breaks you.
Even if you fall flat.
Because that? That’s real. That’s respectable. That’s momentum.
But this halfway hustle?
It’s cowardice in a clever disguise.
You’re not protecting yourself.
You’re protecting your ability to blame something else later.
Max Ren truth?
You either go all in,
Or you stay out and rehearse your excuses.
But don’t confuse the two.
One builds you.
The other buries you—under your own lazy lies.
