I get lost sometimes. Blame the internet.

Trapped in the facades, anxious, consumed with the fabricated successes of others I stifle my own abilities. 

I wander onto the beaten path. Trying to forge my own creation from playdoh some kid already mixed together. 

And that’s where my authenticity goes to die. 

If not a tub of pre-mixed play doh then in indecisiveness, isolation, and jealousy. 

This isn’t a self-loathing post about weeks of writer’s block and a lack of creative drive, but knowing yourself well enough to identify when your self-sabotaging and accepting that you’ve lost true north. 

I get lost sometimes. 

Trying to perfect a fraudulent image, an imposter. Fulfilling a never ending checklist in my head in competition with people whose validation I don’t want. Craving attention from people I’d never want to be. Torn between an end goal and just enjoying the ride. 

I’ve been waiting to write this post for months. I’ve been looking for some type of divine intervention, a sign from God, in other words, for someone else to tell me what I already know. I’ve read every how-to, guide book, and list I can consume. So much time looking for my own abilities in the work of another human being. 

Maybe it’s the new decade looming or a pre-30 crisis, but if you take nothing else here’s my observation:

 #1 Be mindful of your consumption. Curiosity killed the cat because Google took away his imagination in searching for answers. 

#2 Create as much as you consume. We lose the ability to create authentically because we’re too busy trying to subconsciously copy a predesigned “successful” mold. Whatever it is that you do, own that shit. 

Or maybe that’s just me, 

I told you, I get lost sometimes. 

So take this post for what it is. The break in my creative slump? The best my brain could come up with at 5:00am on a Sunday?

Whatever it is, it’s  authentic, and that’s what I promised everyone when I started this journey…I would be myself, and hopefully you can find solace in knowing I’ll be honest with you if no one else will be. 

I don’t know what I want TBH. to become, I’m not sure what  “target audience” I want to serve, or the product I want to create. 

I get lost sometimes, but that’s the beauty of the ride. 

Here’s to 1 year of The Black Hipster. and the beautiful stories to be told. A new decade of adventures, and doing whatever the hell I want. 

Thanks for reading.