The Itch of Becoming

It’s weird, this whole thing about wanting to change. People talk about it like it’s a destination, a switch you flip. “I need to change,” they say, as if the act itself is some kind of pre-packaged kit you can buy off the shelf. But change ain’t like that. It's more like…an itch. A constant, nagging feeling that something's off, even when you can’t quite put your finger on *what*.

I’ve been feeling that itch a lot lately. Lately being the last few months, hovering between semesters at CAU. It's the tension between what's expected and what feels…right. The pressure to conform, to follow the blueprint, to just *be* a certain way. My folks, they’ve got a vision, you know? Grad school, stable job, the whole nine yards. It's a good vision, I guess. A safe vision. But safe ain't always what you need.

There’s this beat I made a while back. August, I think. Something just…came out. A raw, heavy vibe, dark but with this pulsing energy. It felt honest. It felt like *me*, the version of me I’ve been pushing down, the one who wants to build something real, something outside the lines. The problem is, that version of me is also scared. Scared of failing, scared of disappointing people, scared of the unknown.

It's almost like I'm testing something. Not in a structured, therapy-session kind of way – though I definitely should be in one – but just…putting myself out there. Dropping fits on Instagram, even though the follower count is barely over a thousand. Making beats, even though I haven’t really told anyone about them. Showing up to class, just enough to not get flagged. Each little thing, a probe, a test to see how much I can push before things fall apart.

The thing is, the comfortable lies, the narratives you build around yourself to avoid discomfort…they feel good while they last. They provide a sense of control. Like I'm the architect of my own life. But that control is often an illusion, a carefully constructed facade. Confronting the reality—the nagging feeling, the beat that won't let you go—that's where the real power lies.

It’s not about abandoning who you are, necessarily. It's about confronting the parts of yourself that you’ve been actively suppressing. The parts that feel inconvenient, or contradictory to the story you've been telling yourself. It’s uncomfortable, no doubt. Painful, even. It’s like ripping off a bandage – quick, but it stings.

And it’s not just about understanding *why* you feel the way you do. Insight is great and all, but it's not enough. You gotta *do* something with it. You gotta actively challenge those ingrained beliefs, those limiting patterns. You gotta risk falling flat on your face, looking foolish, and being wrong. Because staying where you are, playing it safe, that’s a different kind of pain. A slow, quiet ache that eats away at you until there’s nothing left.

That beat I made? That’s my challenge. It's my constant reminder that there's more to me than the boxes people want to put me in. It’s a signal – a quiet drumbeat pushing me forward, even when every part of me wants to retreat back into the safety of the familiar. It's time to see what happens when I actually follow that signal.