Archive Of Incomplete Projects

The Archive of Incomplete Projects: A Recipe for Existential Dread (Yields: One Very Confused Soul)

Ah, the joy of half-finished dreams—like a half-eaten ice cream cone left in the sun, only to discover it’s now a sad, melty puddle of regret. We’ve all been there: the half-read book on the nightstand, the half-assembled furniture that’s now a hazard to your shins, or that half-baked business idea you’re “still working on” (read: haunted by). The Non Finito isn’t just an art movement; it’s a lifestyle choice for those who’ve mastered the art of almost. Welcome to The Archive of Incomplete Projects, where your to-do list is a war crime and your life is a perpetual beta version. Here’s how to cultivate it like a pro—because nothing says “I’m thriving” like a mental wardrobe full of half-zipped jackets.

The Archive of Incomplete Projects

(Yields: One perpetually “busy” but eternally stagnant human)

Ingredients:

50% enthusiasm (for the initial spark)
100% avoidance (for the actual work)
A lifetime supply of “someday” excuses (e.g., “I’ll do it when I’m less busy,” “I’m in the creative phase,” “The market’s not ready”)
A digital graveyard (folders named “2025 Projects,” “Side Hustles,” “Future Me Will Thank Me”)
The Zeigarnik Effect (your brain’s favorite party trick—remembering every unfinished task like a bad karaoke song)
A resume of regrets (for when you inevitably forget what you were “working on” anyway)

Instructions:

The “Excitement” High Start a new project with the fervor of a convert. Buy the domain, the notebook, the fancy pen—anything to delay the moment you realize this is a terrible idea. “I’m so inspired right now!” you declare, while secretly Googling “how to quit my job.” This is your Peak-End Rule in action: the high of potential is all you’ll remember, not the valley of actual progress.
The “Resistance” Pivot As soon as the project hits “friction” (i.e., actual effort), pivot. “This isn’t my thing,” you’ll say, even if it’s just a half-finished spreadsheet. The key is to keep the archive active—because a closed tab is a dead project, and dead projects are boring.
The “Digital Nomad” Strategy If you’re dangerously close to finishing something (gasp!), ghost it. Don’t delete it—archive it. Rename the file “FINAL_DRAFT_2025_03_15” (even though it’s 2025-12-28). Keep it in a folder called “Urgent” or “To Do Later (Probably Never).” This way, you can pretend you’re productive while your brain festers in the background like a half-buried corpse.
The “Library” Fallacy Treat your incomplete projects like a library of unread books—except these are books you started but never finished. “I’m so deep in my work!” you’ll tell people at parties, while your actual work is a single, half-typed sentence in a Notion page from 2021. Bonus points if you use jargon like “synergistic” or “disruptive” to sound like you know what you’re doing.

Note from the Chef: “Completion is for people who like closure. You, my dear, are a human draft—like a software update that’s been paused at 47%. Keep the archive alive. The ghosts of your potential will thank you.”

Conclusion: So there you have it: the ultimate guide to turning your life into a museum of almosts. Congratulations! You’ve mastered the art of being almost anything—almost successful, almost happy, almost anything but done. And remember, if anyone asks why you haven’t launched that app/novel/business yet, just smile and say, “It’s in the works.” (Translation: “I gave up in 2023 and forgot about it.”)

The real tragedy? You’ll look back one day and realize you spent your life assembling a portfolio of almosts—like a chef who only ever tastes the first bite of their own dishes. But hey, at least you’ll have stories. And stories, as we all know, are just lies we tell ourselves to feel less alone. Enjoy your symphony of the first four bars.