There’s a special kind of pain that comes from stepping on a Lego. It’s sharp, unexpected, and deeply personal. Kind of like being asked, “So, what are you up to these days?” by someone you barely know, in the middle of a crowded bank queue.

I don’t hate people. I really don’t. I like conversations. I just prefer them to be… you know, conversations. Not emotional speed dating where the goal is to say something polite, nod a lot, and both pretend we care. Small talk is basically buffering, but for humans.

“Ehh, so this weather, huh?”
Yes. It’s weather. It happens every day. Sometimes it’s hot. Sometimes it’s raining sideways. We survive. I don’t know what else to say, and neither do you, and yet here we are, two people pretending that cloud patterns are worthy of analysis like we’re low-budget meteorologists.

It’s even worse at weddings. Or church. Or when someone’s aunt corners you and says, “You’ve grown! So what are you doing now?” Ma’am, I’m just trying to survive the buffet line without spilling rice on myself. Let’s not unpack my life’s trajectory right here, next to the cabbage salad.

I once tried to escape a “How’s your week been?” conversation by pretending to get a phone call. Problem is, my phone actually started ringing while I was fake-answering it. I just stood there like an idiot, nodding at my pocket like I was in a Bluetooth advert gone wrong.

Tell me why barbers are so weird. Why do they want to chat mid-fade? I’m trusting you with the shape of my head. Focus. This isn’t the time to ask if I watched last night’s match. My forehead is at stake.

It’s not that I’m shy. I’ll talk about real stuff all day. Let’s talk about why there are no time travelers now if time-travel is invented in the future. Let’s talk about why you never see baby pigeons. Or why scientists claim we evolved from monkey, even though the monkeys are still alive today. These are the questions that keep me up at night

But no, we’re stuck in the loop. “Busy day?” “Yeah, just running around.” “Eish, same here.” And that’s it. Nothing was said. No one left changed. We’ve just performed the verbal equivalent of nodding at someone across the street and hoping they don’t actually cross over.

And it’s always the same people who get offended when you don’t play along. “Ah, you don’t talk much, do you?” No, I do. Just not about whether it might continue to rain this weekend while we both stand under an umbrella. Context matters.

I think deep down, a lot of us are tired of pretending. Pretending we’re interested. Pretending we’ve got everything together. Pretending we enjoy explaining what we’re “up to” while trying not to sound unemployed, unmotivated, or like we Googled “career purpose” at 3AM again.

So yeah, I’ll take the Legos. Give me a floor full of those plastic landmines over another fake laugh while someone tells me how hard it is to find ripe tomatoes these days. At least when I step on a Lego, I feel something real.

Until then, I’ll be at the back, nodding politely, silently begging for someone to break the cycle and say, “You ever think our whole generation’s just collectively tired?”

Now that’s a conversation.