For the past few months, every time I’ve sat down to write anything, my mind draws a steady, immensely annoying blank, this article included. Last semester, when I was at the height of my creative inspiration and first started writing articles, my process went like this: As I was washing the dishes or doing other homework, a glorious idea would pop into my head, and into my notes app it would go.

When the time finally came for me to pitch an idea or sit down and write, it felt like every word was sprouting from my brain and landed gracefully onto the page. Nowadays, if you knocked on my head, you would hear an echo.

Part of this is because, according to my roommates, I can’t stand to be bored. Any free time I have, after endless assignments and an influx of projects, is spent scrolling on TikTok or watching equally brain-rotting YouTube videos; the other reason my creativity has been at an all-time low is because I feel an innate need to commodify my work.

Among my far too many ambitious career pursuits — whether that be writing for television or a news publication — my ideal outcome in these fields relies purely on my ability to be financially successful. Now, this may seem like a given, but when I come up with an idea for a book or a sitcom, the first thought in my head should not be, “How much money would this make?”

These days, art seems to be based solely on profit. Disney has been pumping out sloppy remakes and lazily written sequels for decades. On Nov. 11, the teaser trailer for the upcoming “Toy Story 5” was released, as was the teaser for an upcoming live-action “Moana” on Monday. Additionally, “Zootopia 2” will be out in theaters on Nov. 26, following the company’s last film release, “Tron: Ares” — the third installment of the Tron series, which hadn’t released a new installment in more than a decade.

Disney’s not the only one lacking imagination these days. Every new movie and show seems to be a book adaptation, whether that be Colleen Hoover’s hilariously awful “Regretting You” or the presumably better “Dog Man.” These films are not garnering the same attention and love as “cult classics” because they lack the originality that strikes viewers and leaves a lasting impact.

Similarly, books are increasingly categorized by tropes rather than genres because authors are regurgitating what has assuredly made money in the past. BookTok romance books come off especially bland because they’re all carbon copies of one another. You can only read poorly written “there’s only one bed” and “enemies-to-lovers” stories so many times before it becomes predictable slop.

When creativity is an afterthought and capitalism is at the forefront, art lacks heart and soul.
Plots no longer twist and turn because they are a reflection of flat ideas and even flatter monetary goals.

Productivity culture is also mentally and physically taxing. According to a 2022 survey by Future Forum, burnout in the global workforce rose to approximately 40%, most prominently in the United States. Additionally, 49% of younger people aged 18 to 29 reported feeling burnt out, a number 11% higher than workers ages 30 and older.

This constant need to move also relates back to young people’s inability to be bored. Relative to my constant TikTok and YouTube scrolling, there is a feeling of doom at the sense of idleness. We are told that being bored means we aren’t working; not working means we aren’t creating; and not creating means zero profit.

Yet, children and toddlers struggle developmentally when they are constantly stimulated. I come up with my favorite ideas when I’m on a one-hour drive. Artists like Salvador Dalí have created their best works of art trying to tap into the unconscious mind. Why? Because boredom fosters creativity and imagination.

All this is to say it’s okay to do nothing.

At USC, especially, as I see my peers post on LinkedIn about their insane internships and produce articles at the speed of light, I’m overwhelmed with dread any time I pause to take a breath. It’s easy to lose sight of ourselves when everyone else is such a blur and we’re trying to zero in on their movements. But we also have to remember that, as cliché as it sounds, art cannot be rushed.

Creativity develops at a frustratingly spontaneous pace, and that’s okay.