You know when I was a high school student I wasn't a very good

The legendary Japanese filmmaker Takashi Miike, known for his bold creativity and fearless storytelling, once reflected on his youth with a wry smile: “You know when I was a high school student I wasn’t a very good student. Upon graduation we were asked if we would become a full working adult or go to university. I decided to go to film school and still to this day I try to avoid being a full working adult.” At first, these words may sound playful — a jest from a man who has built a life around art. But within this simple statement lies a profound philosophy about freedom, purpose, and the courage to defy convention. It is a declaration that life’s truest work is not found in conformity, but in creation.

To understand this quote is to understand Miike’s spirit — a man whose films defy genres, boundaries, and expectations. Born in Osaka, he grew up in an ordinary world that valued stability and obedience, yet his heart longed for movement and meaning. When faced with the two paths offered to him — “to become a full working adult” or “to go to university” — he chose neither comfort nor conformity, but the calling of cinema, a world of vision, imagination, and rebellion. His decision was not simply academic; it was existential. For in choosing film, he chose to live not as a worker of routine, but as an architect of dreams.

Miike’s confession that he “tries to avoid being a full working adult” is not a rejection of responsibility, but a protest against the narrow definition of adulthood. In many societies, adulthood is equated with submission — with schedules, safety, and silent acceptance. But to Miike, adulthood should not mean the death of curiosity or creativity. His words challenge us to see that maturity is not about abandoning play, but refining it; not about suppressing wonder, but transforming it into purpose. To live as an artist, as he does, is to refuse the dull comfort of convention, and instead to stay awake — forever questioning, forever creating.

History remembers many souls who, like Miike, walked this path of chosen nonconformity. The painter Vincent van Gogh left the pursuit of priesthood to paint the invisible emotions of life, rejecting what the world called “work” in order to give birth to beauty. The philosopher Henry David Thoreau, after studying at Harvard, went into the woods at Walden Pond to live deliberately, to “front only the essential facts of life.” Both men, in their own ways, refused to become “full working adults” in the ordinary sense, and yet, their labor transformed the world far more deeply than most professions ever could. Miike stands in their lineage, a modern craftsman of defiance, whose work reminds us that passion is not a luxury — it is the foundation of all true creation.

There is a deeper truth in his words as well — that our culture often mistakes conformity for success. The young are taught to climb ladders built by others, rather than to build their own. But Miike’s life teaches the opposite: that the most vital achievements come from those who follow an inner compass. His films, often strange, violent, or surreal, reflect this freedom — the refusal to be tamed by expectation. He became an artist not because he was a “good student,” but because he was an honest seeker. He embraced the uncertain road, and in doing so, found authenticity.

The lesson, then, is both simple and eternal: do not rush to become what the world demands you to be. Whether through art, science, or service, seek the work that keeps your soul alive. Do not mistake adulthood for surrender; let your labor remain an act of creation, not obligation. If you must grow up, grow into purpose, not routine. Be responsible, yes — but be responsible to your own truth. The world does not need more “full working adults”; it needs more awakened spirits, those who work not for survival alone, but for meaning.

And so, let the words of Takashi Miike echo across generations: “I decided to go to film school and still to this day I try to avoid being a full working adult.” It is not the cry of rebellion, but of freedom — a reminder that the truest work is born from play, that passion is not childish but sacred. To live as Miike does is to understand that art is not escape, but engagement — a vow to live fully, fiercely, and creatively, in a world that too often forgets how to dream.