I Was Busy Doing Nothing And Honestly I Was Tired Too
Sometimes The Problem isn't Laziness it's That We're Faking A Whole Life That's not Ours
“I Was Busy Doing Nothing… And Honestly, I Was Tired Too”
Sometimes the problem isn’t laziness — it’s that we’re faking a whole life that’s not ou: rs. Let’s talk.
#Motivation #BeYourself #PersonalGrowth #FunnyButTrue #LifeLessons #PureCrownVoice
Let me confess something that might shock you: I was once extremely busy... doing absolutely nothing.
And the worst part? I was tired too. Exhausted, even. From all the nothing I was doing. Somebody give me an Oscar because I was out here performing life like a full-time actor.
Faking the Hustle: My Favorite Past Job I used to wake up, stretch dramatically like someone in a morning routine YouTube vlog, and say:
“Today is the day I grind!”
Then I’d do nothing.
Okay, maybe not nothing. I’d scroll Instagram motivational pages, save 37 reels with captions like “You gotta want it as bad as you wanna breathe,” then lay back on my bed like a chicken who just remembered it has no flight plan.
But if someone asked me how life was going?
“Oh, you know me,” I’d say, adjusting my invisible tie. “Just working hard, trying to make it out here. Busy, busy.”
Busy? I wasn’t even booked. Not even penciled in.
The Fake Life Exhausts You You know what’s really tiring? Pretending.
Pretending to be productive. Pretending to love what you hate. Pretending to be someone you’re not, just so people can think you’ve “got it together.”
Meanwhile, your real self is at the back of your brain like:
“Excuse me sir, I don’t know these people. I want to go home and mind my business.”
I was doing everything for the sake of image. And guess what? The image wasn’t even in HD — it was blurry, low-res, full of filters, and STILL nobody was impressed.
Be Yourself... Before You Regret Being Everyone Else You see, for a long time, I didn’t know myself. I was living based on what I thought looked good, not what felt right.
People around me loved going out, so I went. They loved noise, crowds, restaurants with names I couldn’t pronounce — so I followed. I wore clothes I hated, laughed at jokes I didn’t understand, and smiled like my Wi-Fi signal depended on it.
But one day I looked in the mirror and thought:
“Who is this guy? Why does he look tired? Why is he holding a smoothie he doesn’t even like?”
That’s when I realized: I was living a life on hire-purchase — but my soul had not made the down payment.
The Day I Decided to Be Me I didn’t throw a party. I didn’t write a dramatic tweet.
I just stopped.
Stopped pretending. Stopped explaining. Stopped apologizing for not wanting what others wanted.
I realized: I love being indoors. I love working alone. I like quiet. I like peace. And that doesn’t make me boring — it makes me me.
I don’t have to force myself into situations just to fit in. There are millions of things I can do — real, creative, fulfilling things — that don’t require pretending to be a party animal with a fake laugh and shiny shoes.
Complaining Doesn’t Fix Anything When you’re not yourself, you start to complain. A lot.
“I’m tired.” “I’m not growing.” “I feel stuck.”
But deep down, it’s not life that’s the problem — it’s the costume you’re wearing.
You’re walking around in shoes that don’t fit, then blaming the road for hurting your feet.
When I dropped the act, I stopped complaining too. Now, if something isn’t for me, I say, “No, thank you.” Not because I’m antisocial. Not because I’m lazy. Because I’ve finally understood this powerful fact:
Anything that doesn’t fit my peace is too expensive.
What Happens When You Choose You? Peace. Clarity. Real growth.
You stop comparing yourself to others. You stop performing for people who don’t even know your middle name. You start building — slowly, honestly, consistently.
Your soul stops shouting, “Let me out!” Because now, it’s finally home.
Final Words from Pure Crown So here’s what I’m saying, from one recovering people-pleaser to another:
Stop living like you’re in a competition for who can fake the hardest. Stop wasting your energy trying to impress ghosts.
Instead, wake up and ask yourself:
“What do I actually want to do today?”
Then go and do that.
Even if it looks small. Even if it looks boring to others.
Because when it’s real? It grows.
And if you’re like me — someone who used to be busy doing nothing — then I’m here to tell you: Being yourself is the most productive thing you can do.
No more acting. No more fake hustle. No more motivational quotes with zero follow-through.
Just you.
Real, raw, rested — and finally on the right path
About the Creator
Pure Crown
I am a storyteller blending creativity with analytical thinking to craft compelling narratives. I write about personal development, motivation, science, and technology to inspire, educate, and entertain.
Keep reading
More stories from Pure Crown and writers in Motivation and other communities.
Faking The Grind How I Almost Lost Myself Trying To Impress Ghost
“Faking the Grind: How I Almost Lost Myself Trying to Impress Ghosts” Not every hustle is real, and not every crowd is your tribe. Here’s how I stopped pretending and found peace in my quiet power.
By Pure Crown8 months ago in Motivation
I Never Chose the Easy Path; I Always Chose Hardship
From the earliest memories I can recall, life presented me with two roads. One was smooth, inviting, and well-trodden—a path that promised comfort, approval, and ease. The other was rough, rocky, and uncertain—a path of struggle, obstacles, and lessons that demanded effort, patience, and resilience. I never chose the smooth road. I never took shortcuts. Not because I was fearless, but because something deep inside refused to let me live a life that wasn’t earned. The easy path whispered promises of fleeting satisfaction, fleeting success, and fleeting recognition. It was tempting. Many around me chose it, and I often wondered if I was foolish for ignoring it. But I learned early that true growth is rarely convenient. The easiest choice often leads to emptiness, to regret, to a quiet knowing that you could have been more than you allowed yourself to be. Hardship became my teacher long before success ever noticed me. The lessons it offered were harsh, uncompromising, and often lonely. There were days when choosing the hard path felt like choosing isolation. While others were celebrated for small accomplishments, supported by friends and family, I walked in silence, with doubt as my companion. Progress was invisible to the world. Failures were frequent and relentless. Many nights, I returned home tired, my heart heavy, my mind questioning why I even bothered. Yet even in that silence, I was being shaped. I was learning the value of persistence, of dedication, and of refusing to give up on myself. The hard path forced honesty. It refused to allow excuses. It stripped away illusions and pretenses. I was left face-to-face with my limits, my fears, and my own humanity. On this path, I discovered strengths I never knew I had: patience I had never cultivated, resilience I had doubted, and self-respect that grew every time I stood up instead of walking away. These were not lessons that could be taught in comfort. They were only learned in struggle, in challenge, and in the quiet persistence of refusing to quit when no one was watching. I remember one time vividly. I had a goal that seemed impossible—one that required me to sacrifice comfort, leisure, and social approval. The easy path was right there: a way to avoid the challenge, to be “okay,” to follow what others had done before me. Many advised me to take it. “It’s safer,” they said. “It’s simpler,” they said. But I could feel, deep inside, that taking the easy way would leave me empty. I chose the hard path. The journey was grueling. Every step felt like pushing against gravity. But with each challenge, I gained more than I ever would have on the easy road. I gained endurance, confidence, and an understanding that real achievement is never handed—it is earned. Strength, I realized, isn’t loud. It doesn’t announce itself. It grows quietly, in the moments no one sees—the early mornings, the long nights, the repeated failures, the times you push forward when giving up would be understandable. Resilience is not simply surviving; it is deliberately choosing to continue, to stand again, to pursue the path that tests you the most. It is knowing that walking away is easier but will never lead to the person you are capable of becoming. I have walked many hard roads in life. Each one was different, yet the lessons were the same: comfort cannot teach endurance, shortcuts cannot teach discipline, and fleeting success cannot teach respect. Every struggle, no matter how small, adds to your character. Every failure is a mirror that shows you who you really are. And every choice to face hardship instead of fleeing builds a foundation that lasts long after temporary victories fade. There were times when I felt truly alone. People around me often misunderstood my choices. Friends, family, colleagues—they all questioned why I refused the easy way, why I worked harder, why I pushed myself beyond what seemed necessary. They didn’t see the growth happening quietly inside me. They didn’t see the small victories, the lessons learned, the resilience being forged. But eventually, the results spoke for themselves—not in a loud announcement, but in the quiet confidence and self-respect that I had built from the inside out. Life, I have learned, rewards those who endure hardship. Not always immediately. Not always visibly. But it rewards those who persist, who face struggle head-on, and who refuse to settle for anything less than becoming their fullest selves. Success that comes without effort is temporary; strength and self-respect are eternal. Hardship tests us, but it also teaches us. It shows us the depth of our own courage, the strength of our will, and the power of refusing to surrender. The lessons of the hard path are subtle, often invisible, and always lasting. I learned that failing is not shameful; failing is a necessary step toward mastery. I learned that enduring pain, even when no one notices, builds a type of strength that comfort never can. I learned that the more difficult the path, the deeper the reward—not measured in wealth or fame, but in character, wisdom, and self-respect. Every choice to embrace struggle instead of avoiding it shaped me. Every sacrifice, every extra hour, every moment of doubt faced instead of ignored, added to the foundation of the person I am today. My life was not easy. It was messy, unpredictable, and often overwhelming. But it was authentic. It was mine. And through hardship, I became resilient. I became someone who can face challenges without fear because I have faced them before. I became someone who respects themselves because I have honored my own effort. I became someone capable of growth because I refused to choose comfort over character. I often reflect on the people around me who chose the easy path. Many of them achieved quick victories, immediate recognition, and temporary peace. But over time, I noticed something important: the victories were shallow, the peace fleeting, and the growth minimal. They lacked the depth of resilience, the quiet power of self-respect, and the profound satisfaction that comes from knowing you endured, you learned, and you became someone stronger. Choosing hardship is not glamorous. It is not celebrated in real-time. It is often lonely, exhausting, and demanding. But it is transformative. It shapes your mind, your heart, and your spirit in ways comfort never can. It teaches discipline, patience, humility, and courage. It makes failure meaningful, effort valuable, and success earned. The hard path is where true people are made—people who understand that life’s challenges are not punishments, but opportunities. Opportunities to become better, stronger, wiser, and more capable. I never chose the easy path. I always chose the harder road, the one that tested me, the one that demanded effort, and the one that required me to face myself honestly. I walked through fear, doubt, exhaustion, and setbacks. I fell, and I got up. I failed, and I tried again. I cried, I questioned, I endured. And through it all, I became someone I could respect, someone who knew the value of persistence, someone who understood that hardship is not the enemy—it is the greatest teacher. Today, I measure success differently. I do not measure it by comfort, convenience, or ease. I measure it by growth, resilience, and the depth of self-respect I have cultivated. I measure it by how I faced challenges I could not ignore, how I embraced struggles that seemed unbearable, and how I refused to take shortcuts at the cost of my own becoming. I never chose the easy path. I chose the one that made me resilient. I chose the one that taught me self-respect. I chose the one that allowed me to become the person I am today. And if I had the choice again, I would choose the hard path every single time. Because the road of struggle is not only a journey—it is the making of a human being.writing...
By Ihtisham Ulhaqabout 6 hours ago in Motivation
Bruce Lee and The God of War: Kuan Ti
It starts with love.. The Power to the God Of War and Wealth Walk into a Chinese restaurant (even in Oklahoma, USA), a Chinese police station, a kung fu martial arts studio or even a Chinese temple and you often see a red faced warrior holding a heavy quan-do (spear like weapon).
By WILD WAYNE : The Dragon King4 days ago in Chapters
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.