I cannot tell you how many times I have sat down to write this article.

I cannot tell you how hard it was to come up with something to write, how many ideas got a sentence before being thrown into the void. I'm currently spitting words onto a keyboard, clawing for some notion, some brilliant bubble of content to explode in my brain and come to life on the screen of this iPad. I want to write about ignorance and world change. I want to analyze, to put poetry to the page. I want to write so bad. But I'm out of practice.

So that's what I'm writing about: the day I decided to yank myself out of practice.

Writing is and always will be my first love. So, the first stop at OU was Gaylord. My first year in college was nothing but writing. A journalism major's life, especially during year one, is to wake up, write, go to class, write, eat, write, operate a camera for an upperclassman, write, sleep, repeat. Even when you're in front of the camera, you spend more time writing to prepare for the piece than you do performing. I loved it. I thrived. I was good at it, like really good. I don't want to toot my own horn or anything, but I will. I'd be a great journalist. I made friends for life. I had no reason to be unfulfilled with the path I had chosen.

But I was.

My life was objectively the best that it had ever been, but there was a hole in my heart. I was doing something I loved, not what I was made to do. They aren't always the same thing. I thought, meditated, prayed to God for guidance. I got sadder by the day, longing for a passion that I had laid to rest: performance.

While writing is my first love, acting is my true love. I was never anything special. I was one of the better actors in my high school, but I wasn't even the best in my graduating class. I just happened to not have stage fright and could project. I was a hobby actor that just played myself. So when I began to tell people I was considering auditioning for OU's School of Drama, it was not met with positivity. Everyone told me to pick a more realistic way, to stick with journalism. I'm better at it, it pays more, and it isn't nearly as competitive. Everyone said that, except for one person.

My dad is the most down-to-earth human I know. Travis Hurst does not have his head in the clouds, nor will he tolerate the foolish idea of a person being able to literally put their head in clouds. So I was floored when he of all people supported me. I remember the words vividly.

"Baylor, I went to college and worked nonstop. I went to college for a job. Don't do that. Go to college for a purpose, your purpose. Love your time there. Don't be another guy who doesn't pursue fulfillment."

I still get all choked up thinking about those words. They were incredibly wise and exactly what I needed to hear.

From there, it was over. I called and set up an audition, told my friends my plans, memorized my monologues, and had the best audition I have had to this point. I walked out sure of myself. I got the call. I made it.

Since then, I've been fulfilling my purpose: acting. I have learned more in these last couple of months at the OU School of Drama than I have in my entire life. For the first time in a long time, I feel peace.

I am so happy.

I stared at that sentence for ten seconds. It's just odd to see, I suppose. Living in your purpose changes things.

But as I've said, writing will always be my first love. I will never stop. That's why I still create podcasts and write sketches. It's why I dove headfirst into writing for Odyssey with minimal research. It's why I waited so long to finish writing this and am submitting a week late. What kind of person is late on their first submission? I just couldn't bring anything but my A-game for this first article. Apologies to the editors.

Baylor vs. The World is a working title by the way. I don't know if I like it. But in this installment of Baylor vs. Writer's Block? I took 'em to the cleaners. Baylor's back, baby.

That was cringey. I need to end this.

Alright, bye now.

-BTH