They say it’s better to burn out than fade away. But what if you never even flickered in the first place?

See, I’ve been wrestling with a thought recently. Not physically, mind you. I don’t wrestle anything these days except existential dread and the occasional, or often, biscuit tin. But mentally, I’ve been spiralling around this idea: you can’t be a has been if you were never a was.

And that’s a real kick in the ego, oftentimes worse than the dreaded scrotum kick. Not the good kind of kick that a masochist loves, like the one that wakes you up before you miss your bus, but the kind that feels like someone just said, “Hey, remember that dream you had in your twenties? Yeah, what happened to that?”. And they’re supposed to be your friends!

But here’s a twist, maybe, just maybe, there’s still time to become that person who can one day be called a has been. It’s not exactly the dream, but it’s a dream adjacent aspiration. Frankly, I’ll take what I can get these days.

People always talk about success like it’s a linear journey. Like you climb a ladder or walk a path or some other wonderous metaphor that implies direction. What they don’t mention is that some of us accidentally took the slide to the basement and have been wandering the damp, dark and squalid underground for decades. That’s not failure. That’s just and off piste life navigation.

The point is you don’t have to be remembered forever. You just need to be remembered once. Just enough to have someone say, “Hey, weren’t you the person who…?” and then you get to nod sagely and say, “Yes. Yes I was,” before limping away like a retired gunslinger with two dodgy knees, a brittle back and a story no one quite believes.

Now we do something. Anything. Pick up a pen rather than just your penis. Go for a run (fuck running). Start a blog that no one reads (I did, hello!!!). Write a film that never gets shot. Lift a weight, maybe two. Grow a chilli. Audition for panto. Train to be a referee and get abused mercilessly every week. It doesn’t matter. Just go at it with the tenacity of a fatman trying to cancel a gym membership, or order from just eat

The future you deserves the right to be called a has been. To have that moment in a pub or at a funeral (hopefully not your own) where someone says, “Remember when they did that thing?” and another person replies, “Yeah, actually, I do.”

That’s legacy. Not statues, not Wikipedia pages. Not BAFTAs. Just a moment of “Fair play.”

So if you’re a never was, well done. You’re a blank canvas, a prequel. You’ve got more potential than a reality show contestant with a tear jerking backstory. Now’s the time to earn your shot at being washed up, burnt out, or happily retired from your brief and shining moment of greatness.

Because remember, even the best have beens were once just someone who said “sod it, I’ll give it a go”.