My sister’s hip hop plays out in the back of my brain,

Causing me to subconciously begin bobbing my head up and down,

Gently, gently, my head nods to the beat of the tune.

No. I stop my involuntary bobbing.

I will be different. I will not be like anyone else.

I ostracise popular music, and well known trends.

How can I be myself when I act like everyone else?

Idiotic, over-blown racial gender cliches can’t catch me, for alas,

I have never Instagramed a selfie featuring a common coffeeshop.

Am I hipster? I suppose I may be, seeing as

I view many things as “too mainstream” for me to

Obsess over.

Why do I struggle within the inner quest of individuality?

Why must I prove to every aquaintence

That I am different from the rest of society?

I suppose, in an age when everything is universal,

And one can instantly search an omniscient searchbar

For a horde of any subculture, way of life, or stereotype in the world,

We, as adolescents, are all desperately trying to find ourselves

(a quest as old as time itself),

Only it has become so much harder,

Because with the touch of a button you can find

So may human beings like you, no matter what.

In a world like that,

How can we not mindlessly label each other, and ourselves?

What is the solution to this eternity of creating your “own identity”.

Is there one?