1 min read

I don't have anything smart to say

I'm a big believer of doing things with purpose. Be it a piece of content online, or a project – there has to be intention, there has to be a thought behind that strikes the audience with awe and meaning.

Why do anything mediocre when you can push the envelope of whatever you pursue? Why say something for the sake of it when you could rather speak up when you have something valuable to add?

And so I'd raise my hand only when I had the right answer.

I'd join a conversation only when I had a smart, witty, or thoughtful comment.

I'd pursue a project only when the idea behind is never-been-done-before and makes people think about something bigger-than-themselves.

But what about the curious answers in-between? The conversations where I had something so obvious to say but not-so-obvious to others, where I could discover my funny bones? The projects that could lead me to something better, that could've been possible if I had taken this first step?

(I remember it like yesterday: In 2012, I created an Instagram profile to share photos. I regret that I left it too soon and kept hidden what I did with love, pride, and joy – all because of "I don't have anything interesting to say" nagging at me.)

In the narrow-minded pursuit of quality and the endless demands of "the best" from ourselves, we scrutinise ourselves until there's no joy, nor curiosity left. To the extent we don't take actions for the fear they don't match up to our imaginary too-ideal-near-impossible standards.

And so today, I don't have anything smart to say.

I just had two vaccines ahead of the big never-done-before trip in a few weeks, and spent the last few hours playing video games.

My brain is empty – and ironically, I miss the feeling of thoughts jumping around, colliding with whatever observations around me.

But I really wanted to write today. To think in writing, out loud. Who knows where that leads me? Who knows where it led me already?