Growing up sounds so serious—full of seriousness, reason, and yes, even resignation.

On the other hand, being young is overwhelming—full of rebellion, beauty, and poetry. It’s the hottest summer, the worst sex, and life in its fullest bloom. A headless quest for one’s identity, a floating existence, a fluid feeling, primarily characterized by one action: doing nothing.

Not producing anything, not creating, not thinking, not speaking. No purpose. Hanging out with friends isn’t planned; it just happens. It nurtures that intimacy among friends, that freedom that allows everything. Turning friends into companions, cliques into safe havens.