Why I’d Rather Be Alone: A Personal Blog Post on Exposure, Burnout, and Finding My Own Way

The Season of Overexposure

Let’s just start here: I’m no longer afraid of being overexposed.

Earlier this year, I used to panic at the idea of someone seeing my screen, reading my unfinished lyrics, scrolling through my folders filled with personal ideas and fragments of myself. But now? I’ve accepted that exposure is inevitable—especially if you want to do something real in this world. Especially if you want to make art, interact with people, or live a life that means something. Exposure comes with the territory.

I had a moment this week—something small, like someone catching a glimpse of my computer—but it reminded me of just how vulnerable I’ve become. And weirdly, that didn’t break me. In fact, I think it reminded me of my growth.

Burnout Feels Like Silence

I haven't recorded anything new in a while. I have lyrics, yes, but not a single song has made it past that stage.

At first, I thought it was just a scheduling issue. I’ve got a quiz on Thursday (thanks for the short notice, professor), and nobody in class wants to study with me. But deeper down, I know this isn’t just about school.

This is burnout. Not just “I’m tired” burnout—but “I’ve poured too much of myself into everything and now I feel like I have nothing left” burnout. It’s creative burnout. Academic burnout. Emotional burnout.

And it's real.

Even though I had dreams of turning my current 12-track project into a 20-track album, the truth is I haven’t felt the spark to even hit record. I think I need a reset. Or at least the space to feel again before I create again.

Alone by Design

Which brings me to the heart of this post: I desire to be alone.

Not in a “no one talk to me ever again” type of way. But in a “let me figure out my own rhythm without having to keep up with anyone else’s expectations” type of way. Every time I’ve tried to build a support system lately, it hasn’t held. People don’t respond. People flake. People only check in when they need something.

So I’ve had to ask myself the hard question: Why am I still trying to be understood by people who don't take the time to understand me?

There’s something freeing about giving up that chase. About choosing solitude. And it’s not bitterness—it’s self-preservation.

This Homecoming, I’m Staying In

It’s homecoming week. A week that should be filled with joy, celebration, reconnection. But I don’t feel celebratory. I thought about dropping a single to mark the week—maybe even do something special—but I’m just not in that space.

I’ve changed so much. And this week feels more like a reminder of who I used to be than a celebration of who I’ve become.

Money and Missteps

Another truth I’ve been sitting with: money has been an issue.

Not because I don’t work hard—but because I’ve grown too soft.

I was at an African street festival recently. Someone offered to clean my shoes, and I said sure. When they asked for a tip, instead of giving them a couple bucks, I handed over a $20 bill. And at first, it felt good. Generous. But later that night, I thought—what am I doing?

Why am I giving out parts of myself—my time, my art, my money—so freely when I’m already running low?

Maybe I’m afraid of being seen as selfish. Maybe I just want to feel needed. Or maybe… I don’t know how to set boundaries anymore.

Music As the Magnum Opus

Despite all of this, I know this next album—whenever it comes—will be my magnum opus.

It’s not just a collection of songs. It’s the documentation of the longest stretch of my life where I’ve had to face everything without hiding behind a beat. Without releasing a track to let it out.

In 2021, there was a long pause, but I bounced back in November with an album. This time feels different. This time, I’m really sitting in the silence and learning from it. The music will come. But only after the truth does.

Prayer, Regret, and Hope

I pray for real friends. Not for popularity. Not for fans. Just for one or two people I can trust with the whole truth—someone who won’t look away when things get ugly. I pray for God to send someone who won’t use me, who won’t leave, who won’t need me to wear a mask.

I regret some things this year. Forgetting a close friend’s birthday. Giving away that $20. Losing things I shouldn’t have lost. But the biggest regret is that I gave away so much of myself trying to be loved by people who only knew a piece of me.

Final Words

Maybe this blog post is more for me than anyone else. But if you’ve made it this far, thank you.

This is me saying: I’m still here. I’m trying. And even if I’m alone, I know I’m not done yet.

A Boost to My Ego,

Signing off.

“You never felt what it feels like in my shoes.”