As the title said, I have nothing to say. There’s really not much to add to that statement, but somehow, I find myself trying to stretch these words into something meaningful. It’s a bit ironic, isn’t it? Writing about having nothing to say feels like chasing after a shadow—there’s not much substance, yet here I am, filling the void with more words than necessary.

Sometimes, having nothing to say doesn’t mean your mind is empty. Thoughts could still be swirling around, ideas half-formed, but none of them seem important or complete enough to share. Maybe the moment doesn’t call for words, or maybe the silence feels more honest. It’s not that I don’t care about what’s happening around me—I do. It’s just that, at this moment, there’s nothing I feel compelled to express.

The strange thing about “nothing to say” is how it can mean so many things. It could mean peace, where everything feels so simple and still that words aren’t needed. Or it could mean confusion, when your mind is so tangled up in thoughts that it’s impossible to decide what to say first. It could even mean holding back, saving your words because you feel they won’t be heard or understood.

And yet, even in this state, there’s something quietly powerful about acknowledging the lack of words. It’s a pause in a world that’s always rushing, a moment to step back and let things be as they are. Sometimes, we don’t need to fill every gap with noise. Sometimes, silence says enough.

So, as I’ve written all this, I realize I’ve probably said more than I intended. But maybe that’s the beauty of it sometimes, even when you think you have nothing to say, the act of trying to explain it becomes its own kind of expression. And if you’ve read this far, I guess you’ve known that I have nothing to say till the end of this statements.

Dekati Ganja, jauhi Janda
Biar merah kerana daun, jangan kerana dara

Sincerely,
Me, Myself & Penyuludup Ganja Bukit Kayu Hitam Sempadan Thai