Am I the Creative Genius I Think I Am?
Do I actually think I am?
Yes.
A million people could see my face right now and it wouldn’t phase me. A million is actually very little to me. I just wouldn’t be satisfied.
What is satisfaction? Fame? No.
Being recognized for your effort and vulnerability. Yes.
I wonder how many people I grew up with still check my profile. My guess is a lot. You’d think I was the popular kid in school — friends with everyone, always in the middle of things. But I wasn’t. I spent most of those years hopping from friend group to friend group, never fully accepted anywhere.
I remember one girl who sat next to me in Health class the entire year and never said a single word to me. One day I dropped my pencil, and she reached down to pick it up and handed it back to me. We didn’t talk after that — just went on with our separate days.
Three years later, during senior year, we ended up in another class together. That time, we actually became friends. She told me she remembered the moment with the pencil and said she had always felt bad that people ignored me back then — all because of something that wasn’t even true. It wasn’t who I was at all.
We’ve stayed friends ever since and she is one of my biggest supporters til this day.
What’s the worst thing someone could do to you? Ignore you.
That feeling follows me — even now, when I put myself out there every day, with the algorithm keeping me in its pocket.
That’s the thing about social media — it gives you the illusion of freedom. You think you can grow endlessly, reach whoever you want, post what you want, but there’s always an invisible ceiling. Someone behind the curtain decides how far you go and who gets to see it. It’s not you. It’s them. I have about 300,000 followers across all my platforms. One account barely shows my posts to 3,000 people. Another reaches 14,000. Another — 600. That’s the sad part. You’re still playing their game even when you think you’re winning. There’s no pause button. The second you rest, things stop moving. The world keeps spinning online, with or without you.
Post a nearly nude photo and suddenly those 3,000 views become 15,000. It’s so easy. But I don’t want that. That’s too easy. You know the secret to exposure, right? Expose yourself. Talk about something controversial — and you’ll win. It’s crazy that I know exactly how to get millions of views, and I still choose not to. It's not fulfilling.
People will always be watching you.
There will always be more people watching than liking. They’ll stay following you because they want to see — but they won’t support. How could they? Someone who isn’t happy with themselves can’t genuinely support another human being. Of course not, silly willy.
Personally, I try to lead my life with gratitude — and with appreciation for other people’s art, whether they’re a stranger or someone I follow who’s clearly putting in relentless effort just to keep going. I really love artists who have three likes and still post every day. That shows real determination. That’s what I value over anything — the strength it takes to keep going when you have no support.
So here’s a tip: if you see someone putting in the effort, throw your nasty ego to the side and drop a like or a comment. It’s really easy to make someone’s day. Stop being so greedy and weird. That energy is never going to get you anywhere. And don’t expect people to support you when you’ve never supported anyone but yourself.
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If you’re a creative reading this, here’s a hard truth: if you’re not good at social media, your career might never take off. No one cares how talented or beautiful you are. I live in a city where everyone is replaceable. What people want is consistency, personality, and something visually yummy to feed on.
The socials own you. Those followers aren’t really yours. So what do you do? You take control. You start collecting your people — emails, phone numbers, real connections. Because once you have that, you’re free. That’s when you have fans. Not just numbers — people. People who actually care, like your mom or your auntie on the East coast.
I’m giving you free advice. Take it or leave it. But if you’re not putting yourself out there every day, I hope you find peace in making art that no one ever sees. Maybe that’s the real question — would you still make it if no one saw it?
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Everyone has a different lens they see through, and maybe that’s what really separates us. Not culture, or politics, or belief — just how our brains are wired to feel things.
At 21, my brain was still mush. People got inside it, stirred things around, and made me question everything about myself. But those experiences made me sharper. They forced me to listen — to God, to my gut, to what I actually want.
I wrote a song last night with a good friend of mine. We recently became close after I quit my job at Guitar Center. He quit a few weeks later, saying the last reason he stayed there was to meet me. When he said that, I knew who he was — someone who trusts himself and believes in the divine power.
We’ve had a few sessions and written a couple of songs, but yesterday was different. I wrote a song and titled it “Familiar.” It’s about mistaking comfort for connection — loving something just because it’s what you know.
I’m ready for the unfamiliar now.
Raw. Acoustic. Haunting. Storyteller.
Let God shape me. I am not the one deciding who I become. He moves me. He inspires me. And I’m finally listening.
Today my intention is: to stop looking and to let it find me.
I am the director of my life, and God is the producer.
