There was a time when I made things just to see if I could. Songs that went nowhere. Half-built models, half-painted canvases, puppets with no stage to stand on. Nobody needed them. And that was the point.

Back then, pointless didn't mean wasted. It meant free. It meant I could follow a spark without asking where it led, without wondering if it would earn me anything or even survive the next week. It was play disguised as purpose. Or maybe purpose disguised as play.

Somewhere along the way, I started mixing up pointless with meaningless. Maybe it happened the first time someone asked, "What are you going to do with that thing?" Maybe it happened when I began cataloging instead of creating, chasing order instead of wonder.

Pointless became a slur—the word you used when something couldn't justify its own existence. But meaninglessness is different. Meaninglessness is the hollow space after you've drained the joy out of an act by demanding it explain itself.

Pointlessness, real pointlessness, is sacred. It's building a sandcastle you know the tide will erase and loving it all the more because it won't last.

I miss the version of me who understood that. The one who could spend a whole Saturday making something beautiful and ridiculous and then throw it away without any ceremony. He didn't need applause or proof—likes, comments, subscribes. He just needed the hum of creation, the smell of paint, and the moment before it all collapsed.

Sometimes I wonder if we lose ourselves not through tragedy, but through measurement. Every minute has to count. Every hobby has to produce. Every thought has to mean something. We forget that some things are allowed to simply exist.

Maybe the trick is to start again. To build small, stupid altars to joy. To do one thing a day that defies all purpose.

Because pointlessness, handled with love, is just meaning wearing sweatpants.

This has been a love letter to a forgotten thing.

Never confuse being unproductive with being alive. May you find the courage to waste your time beautifully.