Fuckism: Fuck you, ‘Later.’ You sweet-talking liar—you’re the reason I’m still stuck today.
“Later” sounds productive.
Sounds polite.
Sounds like strategy.
But it’s not.
It’s a soft little assassin with your voice, keeping you comfortable, compliant, and chronically behind.
“Later” is how you lied to yourself just enough to feel smart while doing nothing.
It’s the voice that let you scroll, sleep, snack, and stall your way into this mess.
And now look at you—
Dreams on pause.
Potential in a coma.
Progress in a goddamn holding cell, waiting on your next excuse.
Max Ren truth?
“Later” never saved anybody.
It’s the cousin of regret and the silent killer of drive.
Tell it to fuck off—and move your ass now.