A Spark by Innocent Mwatsikesimbe from Questions Asked, chapter 10

Words set distances. Call tomorrow another day and it drifts somewhere beyond the horizon of now; count it in hours and it is close enough to touch. Next year sounds remote too, until it becomes 365 or so todays, each one spendable or losable.

That mismeasurement is the engine of delay. Procrastination, in Innocent’s account, draws its power from “ignorance of the passage of time.” It needs tomorrow to feel far, because putting something off to a place nearby is plainly just refusing to do it. And tomorrow carries no guarantee anyway — it may never arrive, or may arrive after the opportunity has gone.

His way of restoring true scale is a single question: who am I going to be? Measured against that person, a few hours stop being a safe place to hide things, and procrastination shows itself as an illusion — “one that fades away as soon as you make that first step.”