Los Angeles, CA

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Let me be real: I’m paranoid of what I post online, yet there’s a part of me that wants to break free from silence. Each day that passes feels like another small death of potential. My journal and bedroom tell a different story: Pages filled with half formed thoughts. Long minddumps. Sometimes just words: “man up”, “weird dream”, “exhaustion”. But it feels painful to break the silence unless there’s something worth saying.

If you’re anything like me, your obsession over what’s “good” means you will always be the worst critic. You are the judge and the imaginary audience. Literally no one else can say anything worse. I consume other people’s work feverishly and what impresses me the most is not great skill but vulnerability. It feels intimate, authentic, radical to see people with barely any audience push out what work they know to be imperfect, but must exist publicly. Shouting into a void in an attempt to express to the world.

Death doesn’t wait for masterpieces. The worst part of this mental block is I know the answer to the fear of putting myself out there. Nike is right: just do it. All evidence has pointed to self-assuredness, especially with being public. Anything I’ve ever been forced to put out there has always been worth it: feedback, praise, even an internship. I can take criticism in studio classes far worse than what 12 year olds have to say. So what’s going on?

Maybe I’m scared of commitment to an internet self. The digital footprint is real, where every post feels like a confession of who I am. I don’t want to be defined by something someone has seen. The thing is our short attention spans has invaded our music taste, careers, dating lives … someone takes a quick look and writes you off. I know this because I am that someone.

I think I’m judgemental. There’s no such thing as a dress rehearsal on the internet. You must be already-formed online. But do I really remember mediocre work? Not at all. This is about control — once released, expression escape my control to take on lives in others’ minds.

Still, with short attention spans also comes short memories. If you fear embarrassment of being exposed as a complete amateur, consider: does anyone really remember mediocre content? Memento mori. Time will pass anyways and death will prevent you from achieving what you wish you could have made.

True liberation comes when we surrender our vice grip, being unmistakably honest and sincere with ourselves. So you have to be willing to seek this out for yourself. To ask, does creating make you feel alive? Ever since I realized feeling alive is much better than tolerating being embarrassed, commitment became meaningful.

It just feels scary to put stuff out there. I know I can do better, I know my work sucks right now. Ira Glass’s quote on the taste gap — “your taste is why your work disappoints you”. I want to toil in secrecy and keep my ideas cooking until it’s ready. But deep down I know that I will not get the feedback I need. It’s a fantasy.

The world belongs to creators. So this right here is my trustfall to committing to this. See you on the other side.