Pieces all around me.
I don’t know which go where.
There’s an urgency to get it done.
I won’t have time to do it perfectly.
Things will just have to be as they are.
So long as it works in the end,
that’s all that matters to me.
It’s time. What I always feared.
Some things I just don’t know.
Always felt like I had to know it all.
Never knew enough, it seemed.
Now time’s run out for me.
Know or not, it needs to be done.
However I can do it will have to do.
The time for waiting has ended.
The time for action is now.
It won’t be perfect or pretty.
It’ll just be whatever it needs to be.
Perfection was always the excuse. The reason to hesitate, to pause, to stall. But time doesn’t wait, and neither can I. This moment won’t ask if I’m ready—it’ll happen regardless. And so, I move, ready or not.
Maybe the pieces will fit, maybe they won’t. Maybe I’ll make mistakes, leave gaps, force things into place that don’t belong. But I’ll still be moving, still be creating something real instead of standing frozen in thought.
I’ve wasted too much time trying to see the whole picture before placing the first piece. That time is over now. What I build will be messy, rough around the edges, held together by sheer will if nothing else. But it will stand. It will exist.
And that’s more than I ever had when I was waiting for perfection.
So I embrace the chaos. The uncertainty. The cracks in my plan. I don’t need it to be flawless—I need it to be done.
Let it be what it needs to be.
