What do I want?
I want the One Piece—something I can’t fully define yet, something that might look different tomorrow than it does today. But maybe not knowing is the point. It allows me to focus on the journey rather than the destination.
I feel like I’m at an inflexion point. I’ve been preparing for this moment for so long, and now, I’m ready to squeeze every drop out of it. After years of learning, consuming, and absorbing, I swear, sometimes my brain might explode. And I want to let that energy flow in all the wild, unexpected ways it can.
Every day brings the same challenge: how do I channel my creativity? Some days, I dream of opening a restaurant. Other days, I want to run a fashion brand, sketch on a windy hill, or start a bookstore in Kyoto—maybe even a listening bar in Berlin (kidding, way too many people are doing that already). It’s a lot. But if I don’t know exactly what I want in the end, at least for now, I want something that accepts me, the way I think, the way I create, the way I explore. A place to belong. And a great crew to go along with.
What do I know?
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I know that the more I learn, the more I realise how much I don’t know—and that’s both scary and exhilarating. I’m proud of how much I know about certain topics, yet I’m constantly frustrated by my mind’s insistence on clinging to random pieces of information while letting go of things I wish I could recall when needed.
If you ask me about Cuba, I know how it feels to be Cuban—the beaches, the climate, the scarcity, the accents, the behaviours, the uniqueness. But can I sum up 60 years of political history, economic shifts, and the full spectrum of public opinion to prove my knowledge? No chance. And sometimes, I wonder—does not knowing that mean I don’t really know Cuba? And it’s not just about Cuba. I question whether “knowing” something means understanding every last detail of it. Because if that’s the case, I can not say I know about some of the most popular contemporary artist, even if I can trace the influences shaping their style, visuals, lyrics, etc. —and connect them to their immediate referents in Japanese culture, certain age of nostalgia or social advocacy trending topic?
Can I say I know about sustainability just because I’ve explored it through design, fashion, and textiles? When sustainability is just as crucial in tech, policy, and global systems? And what about innovation, design thinking, venture capital firms, brand strategies, and business models—do I know them, or do I just know of them?
I constantly say that I know beauty but is just my understanding of beauty and how it manifest —not only in beautiful objects but in processes and the people behind it. The craftsmanship in anything shaped by care and intention over time. I like to think I know how to really see the things around us, but not sure how much knowledge there is behind a perception.
Ok ok ok, this is getting too long. Summarising. I follow fewer than 1,000 accounts on Instagram so I don’t miss on the things I care about. I track trends, posts, and articles across LinkedIn, Substack, Reddit, Threads, Bluesky, TikTok, event apps, dating apps. I subscribe to newsletters, pay for news subscriptions, four streaming services, read fiction, non-fiction, politics, climate research. I meditate. I go to the gym. I ask to friends, partners and mentors for their insides and takes.
All of this, just to make sure I know.
And yet, I still feel the gaps. I still feel like i don’t know how to answer this question. But I do know that I care about knowing.