Time You Enjoy Wasting Is Not Wasted Time.

Lately, I’ve been realizing how much of my life has been spent doing things with an angle. Chasing specific goals, proving points, trying to make everything mean something bigger. And don’t get me wrong - there’s nothing wrong with ambition. But somewhere in all that noise, I kind of forgot how to just enjoy things. Like… doing shit just because it makes me feel good. Not to get ahead. Not to impress anyone. Not to check a box. Just because it fills my cup.

This is me coming back to that. Back to myself. Back to doing things with no ulterior motive, no performance, no pressure - just presence. And I want those things to feel like enough. Like, the act of doing them is complete in itself. No explanation, no outcome needed. Just existing in that space - in that joy, that curiosity, that comfort - is more than enough. And honestly? That feels good as fuck.

This blog is one of those “just because it feels good” things. I’ve always loved writing. As a kid, I’d always write short stories, movie plots, even entire TV show scripts - I'm talking like, full-on casts, theme songs, everything. Doing that as a kid never carried any agenda or goal. I wasn't planning on being some writer or producer. It was never about anything other than how much I loved creating something out of nothing. But like a lot of my passions, once I grew up a little and realized it wasn’t giving me anything tangible - no paycheck, no praise, no “next step” - I slowly let it go. Told myself I didn’t have time. That I needed to focus on things that would “get me somewhere.” And before I knew it, I wasn’t writing at all. Now that I’m even older, I’ve found myself stuck in this anxious loop - constantly going, chasing, checking boxes - but not actually feeling satisfied by any of it. That’s when it hit me: the feeling I used to get from writing, from creating just to create, is the reward. It’s more valuable than anything I might “get in return” from forcing myself to stay focused on things that bring me no joy. And maybe it won’t get me a promotion or a gold star or a fat paycheck, but it gives me something better - me.

Here’s something I don't really say out loud enough: I don’t just love music - I absolutely live for it. It’s never been something I casually vibe to and move on. I breathe it. I hear music in layers - the way a certain note bends, the way a lyric can say one thing but feel another. Every song is like a puzzle I want to take apart into a billion pieces and study. I get hyper-fixated on transitions most people wouldn’t even notice. I can feel the emotion in a beat. I can hear the story in the silence between lines. Music isn’t just something I appreciate - it’s something I seriously understand, in a way that feels so much deeper than anything else. It’s always been that way for me, as cheesy as it might sound.

And even with saying all of this, I’ve never truly owned that I want to make music. Not necessarily as an artist or performer, but I want to be in it. Create it. Shape it. I’ve always held that desire at arm’s length, like it was too unrealistic or too fragile to say out loud. Because what if I tried and I wasn’t great at it? What if something I love so deeply didn’t love me back? And for someone like me, who craves control and clarity, that’s a terrifying thought. It paralyzes me. It makes me feel stuck, wanting to take action so bad but not being quite brave enough to. And that breaks my heart, because on the flip side, what if it does love me as much as I love it? What if it has just been waiting for me to make the first move? And I've been neglecting it. But it goes back to my point that music is something that I can view as one of those things that I can just exist in with no major goal to chase.

And honestly, I don't think It's just about fear of failure. It’s deeper than that for me. I think so many of us carry this tendency - especially if you’ve dealt with trauma, rejection, or constantly being misunderstood. We start to believe that if something doesn’t have a clear path, a guaranteed reward, or an immediate return, it’s not worth our energy. We get conditioned to prioritize what's productive over what’s personal. To chase things that make sense on paper instead of the things that actually set our soul on fire.

For me, I’ve always been someone who doesn’t fit right into any one box. And because of that, I’ve become super selective with where I put my time and energy, but not always in a productive way, It's almost like I select the things that I think should shape me - not because I don’t have passions, but because I’ve spent so much of my life trying to be liked and accepted. And in doing that, I’ve let some of the most important pieces of me just completely vanish, to the point that the person I am doesn't feel recognizable. I don't resonate with her, I don't know her. Maybe I have never really known her. And that can be scary sometimes and puts me in a dark place. I’ve put so much effort into being digestible that I forgot how to just be me. And the wild part is - whether we realize It or not, we do all this bending and shrinking and curating for the comfort of others to an extent… and we’re still the ones left feeling empty. How the hell is that fair?

And it’s not just music or writing. It’s a pattern that shows up in so many areas of my life. There are many nights I lay in bed and feel like I’m clocking out from a shift - not at a job, but on a set. Like I’ve been performing all day. Smiling, saying things strategically, playing the version of myself I think people want to see. Like my life is some long-running film, and I’m the lead actress, stuck in a role I didn’t exactly audition for - I just kind of became her. And she looks like me, sounds like me, laughs like me… but she’s not really me.

And I think all of this - the music, the writing, the joy I’ve slowly abandoned in exchange for some sort of structure and acceptance - it’s all connected. This feeling of disconnection, of stuck-ness, of being chronically unsatisfied even when things “look good". That’s the root. That’s what’s been trying to get my attention for years.

So I’m done performing. I’m done only showing the parts of myself that feel polished enough or proven. I’m committed to coming back into myself - to choosing creativity, actual softness, messiness, joy… even when it doesn’t come with a plan or a reward. Even when it doesn’t make sense to anyone else. And maybe you feel it too. Maybe you’re exhausted from curating your own life just to make it easier for other people to consume. Maybe you’ve been telling yourself certain dreams don’t matter anymore just because they haven’t “paid off” yet or you think they don't have the potential to. Maybe you’re tired of being everything for everyone - except for you.

So my Blanket Statement™ for this post is - just because it doesn’t “get you ahead” doesn’t mean it’s not worth doing.

What would happen if you came back to yourself? If you picked something you love and did it just because it lights you up? If you let go of the outcome and trusted that joy is reason enough? I’m starting here. This blog, this post - it’s me choosing to do something that feels like me. The real me. And I don't fully know who she is yet. Maybe I won't for a while. But I know I can't go another second without looking for her. 

No performance. No pressure. Just presence.

What’s your thing? The thing you used to do when no one was watching.The thing that made you feel more you than anything else ever has.The thing you let go of because life got loud… and you got tired. What would happen if you picked it back up and just let it breathe again? You don’t need a plan. You don’t need permission. You just need you.