Welcome… 

Thank you for coming to the Museum of Almost.

Please; do not touch the exhibits.

They are fragile.

Like egos.

Like democracies.

Like your last three group chats.

Here, in these hallowed halls, you’ll find the future that tripped over its own shoelaces. 

Ideas that almost made it.

Like:

Universal healthcare,

Flying cars that didn’t burst into flames,

That one indie band that was this close to changing everything, but the bassist fell in love with a cult leader in Tampa.

Observe the “Shelf of Hesitation.”

Here lie the Nobel Prizes that could’ve been, had people not overthought their captions.

And over here, we have:

The Dream Deferred Department.

The Wing of Withheld “I Love You”s.

The Hall of Grandmas Who Were Gonna Learn French.

Ah yes.

The Room of Alternate Yous.

Here’s the version of you who joined the circus.

The one who started a revolution in a laundromat.

And the one who said “no” that one time instead of smiling politely and slowly imploding.

All still echoing… inside your brain like a jazz trio on mushrooms.

Is it tragic?

Yes.

But also hilarious.

Because life is nothing if not a cosmic improv show with no script and terrible lighting cues.

The Museum of Almost doesn’t ask for your sadness.

It asks for your weirdness.

Your will.

Your willingness to do the dumb, beautiful thing anyway.

Even if it fails.

Especially if it fails.

So go.

Build your own exhibit.

Carve out your corner in the absurd.

Take the almost and make it a little more.

Make a mess.

Make it loud.

Make believe better.

Because the most important thing in the Museum of Almost…

…is that you’re not in it yet