Sure thing, think of a calm lake as a quiet chatroom and the river as a meme thread that just exploded. I stir it by dropping a wild idea, letting the waves ricochet off my own expectations, and then I grab the new current and ride it. The trick is to keep a tiny anchor—like a core principle or a memory that reminds me where I started—so I don’t drift too far. It’s all about dancing between the splash and the stillness, and when I feel myself tipping, I pause, catch my breath, and then dive back in. That's how my spontaneous energy stays balanced without losing its wild vibe.

I stick to the scent of my grandma’s attic—old cedar and a hint of lemon polish. When the memes flood, I inhale that and remember a quiet, calm place, like a hidden corner in a library, so I can keep my head on the lake and not drown in the waves.