perhaps making sense is overrated
Do you ever worry about content making sense?
I've been dreaming of just creating and posting without batting an eyelash at the notion of tagging, branding guidelines, or marketability.
As much as I wish to play and publish, post and ghost, I have this irrational fear of, "but what if it doesn't make sense?"
I dream of writing, filming, streaming whatever form of creativity is wanting to be expressed that day. Whether it's playing video games on Twitch, hosting a tarot reading session on TikTok Live, just chatting on vlogs via YouTube videos, writing my musings on my blog, why do I feel like I have to have neat, compartmentalized 'brands' so people can pick and choose which part of me they wish to consume?
"Follow me on TikTok if you are interested in my spiritual content! Follow the Twitch for casual chatting and gaming fun. Subscribe to my YouTube for behind-the-scenes content and real life updates".
Such a weird and bizarre thought, splitting yourself and your interests into different silos so it can appease the algorithms' categorization formulas.
My brain has this poisonous thought: if I don't follow the general guidelines of a good caption with popular & relevant hashtags, posting at the most opportune time for maximum eyeball attention, and at a consistent schedule, I might as well forget about it and not create or post at all.
If I'm not going to perfectly seduce and feed the algorithm premium, highly specialized content, then I have no one to blame besides myself when tumbleweeds and crickets are all I get back.
Why does it feel downright sinful to break the social media golden rules? We all know that even if we do our best to follow 'it' ('it' being our best guess at what the platforms likes, because it is purposely obtuse and obscure), our success and visibility is still entirely on the whim of the powers that be.
I suppose it's too much to ask of the corporate giants to finetune their algorithms to capture the nuances and fluctuations of human life and our ever-evolving interests and passions.
No, it's better that creators start a second/third/fourth YouTube channel with their newfound interest in painting, skating, or journaling, or to have a private Instagram account (finsta?) if you don't want to confuse the algorithm and ruin the visibility of your public-facing brand.
What is the antidote to this poison? Many social media users have been manipulated, lured by the delivery of cheap dopamine hits — trapping people on their platform to get their next fix. It took me awhile, but I've finally gotten to the point of coughing up blood and thinking there was something incredibly dystopian and wrong about this.
I needed out of socials to clear my mind, that's what led me here in the first place.
Will it be freeing to post all willy-nilly, without a clear, compelling initiative behind it? To upload my vlog today without announcing it on my IG, Threads, and TikTok accounts? To worry or not worry about missed attention & connections?
It's not that hard to simply post the URL to other accounts for cross-pollination... but do you hear it too? The nails-on-chalkboard screech of, "WHY IS THIS EVEN IMPLANTED INTO MY BEING?"
Yeah. It's nauseating. I miss the days of creating for the sake of creating and showing up online on my own stage of play and presentation — when it was all fun and games. Now it feels like entirely too much is at stake, like social standing and seeming too ignorant and incompetent.
I don't want to draw pitiful stares and sympathy watches, no, I want to connect with community and gather in a like-minded, inspiring environment. I want to make progress towards unleashing the terrifyingly powerful being that is buried underneath my insecurities and inhibitions.
I know she is in there somewhere. Lurking. Waiting to pounce. And I want to provide her a reason to come out, to provide her with a hunt that she can't refuse.
The conclusion I'm coming to: the way you create and publish doesn't have to make sense to anyone but you. Aka: my content doesn't have to make sense to anyone but me. If creating and posting without a cohesive direction intrigues that terrifyingly powerful being within to come out and sniff around, then the creation is serving its purpose.
If I do this enough times, that terrifyingly powerful being will transition from passive to active. To displaying its power and throwing its weight into my creations, simply for sport and to see if it's still got it.
And I really, really, really, really, deep down believe that it will be magnificent. I think we're all waiting for our realization moment of, "oh shit, I'm powerful and I really am a genius in my own right," or "oh, this is what I'm meant to do", or any remix of those notions.
We're all geniuses in this life. At least in some moments in short periods of time. This excerpt of Mementori Mori by Jonathan Nolan, has stuck with me throughout the years:
Here's the truth: People, even regular people, are never just any one person with one set of attributes. It's not that simple. We're all at the mercy of the limbic system, clouds of electricity drifting through the brain. Every man is broken into twenty-four-hour fractions, and then again within those twenty-four hours. It's a daily pantomime, one man yielding control to the next: a backstage crowded with old hacks clamoring for their turn in the spotlight. Every week, every day. The angry man hands the baton over to the sulking man, and in turn to the sex addict, the introvert, the conversationalist. Every man is a mob, a chain gang of idiots.
This is the tragedy of life. Because for a few minutes of every day, every man becomes a genius. Moments of clarity, insight, whatever you want to call them. The clouds part, the planets get in a neat little line, and everything becomes obvious. I should quit smoking, maybe, or here's how I could make a fast million, or such and such is the key to eternal happiness. That's the miserable truth. For a few moments, the secrets of the universe are opened to us. Life is a cheap parlor trick.
Perhaps this is all dwindling down to: we have to be confused, imperfect, messy, chaotic, incomprehensible, and eventually, our moments of genius will strike. We have to be okay with the in-between phases, like the waxing moon phase before it becomes full.
And to take it even further, perhaps we progress through our phases of idiocy to enlightenment BY paying the toll fee of not making sense. This is all an on-going contemplation of needing to make boring or "bad" art in order to create the masterpieces we dream of. To build the foundation and the life we strive for.
So I'll continue creating in ways that might not make sense to algorithms or audiences, but make perfect sense to my soul. I'm choosing to honor all my phases — confused and brilliant, messy and inspired — knowing that each has its purpose in my creative and spiritual journey.
Perhaps making sense is overrated anyway.
Let's stop trying to fit our multidimensional selves into one-dimensional boxes.
P.S. In hypocritical fashion, I don't have the spoons to upload my vlog as I post this blog. There's a lot of attachment to my old YouTube content that I haven't reckoned with and still need to archive. I need more spoons to tackle that. I envision I'll be posting my vlog this weekend. Keep you updated.
Thanks for being here.
Sincerely,
Nadine ♥︎