Summer '26

The other day, I was driving home after getting wings with my friends. We had been discussing the themes that keep popping up in our lives. I mentioned how contrast seemed to be a concept that kept coming up for me—but for all the times I had noticed it, I couldn't think of a specific example. However, on the drive home, the song "The End" by The Doors started to play.

If you are familiar with that song, you might know there is a version where Jim Morrison sings something wildly inappropriate about his mother. But in the version I was listening to, instead of saying that part, he just makes these yelling noises. That moment gets completely chaotic, wild, intense, and messy. I found myself drawn into that specific part of the song for those

exact reasons.

It brought me right back to the idea of how contrast has been giving me clarity. I listen to many different genres of music, and I often listen to classical. A soft, lyricless, structured classical piece couldn't be more different from the wild yelpings of Jim Morrison. Yet, it brought so much clarity to this moment in my life and what I am feeling called toward: absolutely unapologetic absurdity.

I have become so repulsed by social scripts. I don’t want my puppet strings yanked anymore. Somewhere along the line, making compromises slipped into sacrificing myself, and I can’t live with self-betrayal.

I want to live an uncurated life—one that is eccentric, unconventional, adaptable, fluid, and, most of all, full of the kind of freedom that only comes from being yourself. I want to work on the projects that pop into my head on a whim. I want to spend the day deep-diving into my random hyper-fixation of the week, going down rabbit holes. I want my life to be a junk drawer of experiences.

Will I step on a few toes while I dance barefoot off into the sunset? Yes. Do I care?

...

Don't forget to follow your bliss.

I know that while I'm off doing this, someone might just glance over and think to themselves that they, too, want the audacity to live life for themselves. It’s never too late to take a detour, pull a U-turn, or follow the flickering neon light—because freedom is open 24/7.