Ideas are cheap
Ideas are cheap, but not cheap like a toy in a Happy Meal. Some are cheap like that bar receipt from a few nights ago with that cute girl’s number. Others are cheap like the faded photo of your ex that’s currently in your wallet. Or the discounted gym membership you bought last New Year. Or that dusty Spanish book on your bookshelf.
Ideas attract meaning before they deserve it, and hold onto it long after they’ve outstayed their welcomes. These “what ifs” and “one days” buzz like flies through our busy minds, and always seem to evade our grasps, for we have convinced ourselves that catching flies is hard, and nobody should expect themselves to actually catch a fly.
Ideas are oversized body pillows; some nights, they’re enough to help you sleep, but others, they are restless companions, giving you something to hold onto as you toss and turn in search of the real thing.
Paradoxically, letting an idea go is harder than actually doing something about it. Ideas love the in-between, surfing in the not-just-yet, wanting neither to shit nor get off the pot. Yank the baby away from its pacifier, and don’t be surprised when it screams.
I’m quite attached to one idea I’ve been carrying around with me for a decade. Like a child waiting for a baseball card to appreciate in value, I’m hesitant to cash it in before the time is right. I’m intoxicated by the vision of the world it offers, but can’t quite bring myself to get in the game.
Instead, I watch the moments tick by, dreaming of the world that I might one day create, as if it weren’t within my reach to visit it now.