I don’t have original thoughts. All my opinions come from much more creative people. I read them and listen to them, and I absorb their brilliant ideas, and mash them together into something that sounds sort of clever, but isn’t so much once you scratch the surface. One day someone will find out.
I’m not as smart as people think I am. From young, I learnt to follow rules. To read the subtext of society’s expectations. To prep hard for exams. To choose the safest and most likely answer. That way, you can get good marks, even if you’re not a genius. One day someone will find out.
I think they can tell I’m not capable. I’ve only weaselled into this position through luck and upbringing. I’m not eloquent like that guy in the glasses. I’m not technically skilful like that woman in the green skirt. I haven’t even done my laundry in a week, and last night I cried myself to sleep. Who am I to give them advice?
One day someone will find out that I’m a fraud.