Letter to a Young Influencer
I understand you call yourself a writer.
Dear young influencer,
I understand you call yourself a writer.
You see life as a journey and you’ve cast yourself as the protagonist nobody noticed.
A character so immersed in your own narrative you forgot to translate it into something others could feel.
And now you’ve found the indie lit scene.
So you’ve built a persona.
I’m sorry.
I almost got killed by mine once.
Let me be the first to tell you:
Your videos won’t save you.
A million followers equals very little money.
A million people watching doesn’t mean even one understands you.
A million views won’t save you at 4 AM when your own voice echoes too loudly in the silence.
You have so much to say yet so little to say about anything that truly matters.
You think it’s a hustle but it’s attention without substance and praise without loyalty.
You’re dancing in the mirror of some false invocation.
You’re feeding the algorithm your fantasies like sexual therapy.
Your captions are confessions that nobody will grasp no matter how many likes they give.
You think you’re building a castle of self-expression when you’re creating the biggest trap in the village.
Now you’re stuck inside the gates you designed and don’t know how to escape.
Every post that you make is a calling to be seen to be noticed to be loved to be acknowledged to be placed at the top of the feed.
You call it writing and you call it a performance and you call it yearning and you may even call it a career.
But where is your soul?
Where is your sense of self?
Where are your values?
What are your values?
Have you defined them?
How can you live without defining your values?
I’ll tell you something I wish someone told me:
The self, once branded, rarely comes back whole.
So young influencer,
I ask this of you before the month is over.
Pick up a book that calls to your inner spirit and start reading it tonight.
Don’t pose with a picture of it and share it online or it will be best left unseen by your eyes.
Stop posting about your escapades, if they are even true at all, and let your knowledge do the work.
Ignore the indie lit scene gossip, the obnoxious clout games, the fabricated drama, and the juvenile posturing.
Become someone who carries a legacy instead of someone who gets drowned out the day you turn 30.
Because you know what happens to young influencers after they age?
Absolutely nothing.
If you like what I’m doing here at The Cultural Futurist, don’t forget to buy me a coffee.
