How many times can I say it? How many times can I write, speak, or think that being yourself is paramount. That being yourself isn’t easy by any means, but that it’s worth it. That being free to do the things that you want to do, and even free enough to sometimes do things that you don’t want to do, is healthy.
Sometimes I ask myself why I feel the need to make my youtube videos, and share my own experiences in order to help others. Or why I feel compelled to write articles on Hardfluff that may or may not ever reach more than a handful of people. During these introspective moments, I always come to the conclusion that what I’m doing has a purpose—maybe even the highest purpose—because I like doing it. I like telling real-life stories that have taught me something worth passing on. I like writing nonsensical things that people can interpret in their own ways, and find their own meanings in. I like being open.
But maybe you’re not sure about who “you” are. Maybe you’ve faked it until you made it, and you now identify yourself with things that were once artificial. It’s all okay. You may be the sum of your experiences, you may be your thoughts, you may be your actions, and fuck it, you may be your clothes. But YOU must decide who you are, and forget what others want you to be. You are your own sculptor, and your ability to mold yourself into whatever shapes you please is unparalleled. Be your Gucci shoes today, and the volunteer at an African orphanage tomorrow. Be an avid jazz lover today and a punk rocker tomorrow. You are what you are at this moment, and the fact that this moment is changing with ever passing second means that you are too.
I do the things I do because no matter how lost I become in my own world of uncertainty, confusion, positivity and lust, I still love. I love you.
