Most people don’t notice how much of their day is decided before they even wake up—grooves worn deep by habit, not choice. Every so often, I snap the needle on purpose: take the wrong road, strike the wrong chord first, sit with music that doesn’t belong to me, say no where I’d usually nod along. It’s a small rebellion, but that’s the point—a slight turn, a spark, and the drift starts answering to you.
