I was in the winter of my life, and the men I met along the road were my
only summer. At night I fell asleep with visions of myself dancing and
laughing and crying with them. Three years down the line of being on an
endless world tour, and my memories of them were the only things that
sustained me, and my only real happy times.
I was a singer, not a very popular one. I once had dreams of becoming a
beautiful poet, but upon an unfortunate series of events saw those
dreams dashed and divided like a million stars in the night sky that I
wished on over and over again, sparkling and broken.
But I didn't really mind because I knew that it takes getting everything
you ever wanted and then losing it to know what true freedom is.
When the people I used to know found out what I had been doing, how I
had been living, they asked me 'why?' But there's no use in talking to
people who have a home, they have no idea what it's like to seek safety
in other people, for home to be wherever you lie your head.
I was always an unusual girl. My mother told me I had a chameleon
soul—no moral compass pointing due north, no fixed personality—just an
inner indecisiveness that was as wide and as wavering as the ocean. And
if I said that I didn't plan for it to turn out this way I'd be lying,
because I was born to be the other woman. Who belonged to no one, who
belonged to everyone, who had nothing, who wanted everything. With a
fire for every experience and an obsession for freedom that terrified me
to the point that I couldn't even talk about, and pushed me to a
nomadic point of madness that both dazzled and dizzied me.
Every night I used to pray that I'd find my people, and finally I did,
on the open road. We had nothing to lose, nothing to gain, nothing we
desired anymore, except to make our lives into a work of art.
Live fast. Die young. Be wild. And have fun.
I believe in the country America used to be. I believe in the person I
want to become. I believe in the freedom of the open road. And my motto
is the same as ever. I believe in the kindness of strangers. And when
I'm at war with myself, I ride. I just ride.
Who are you? Are you in touch with all your darkest fantasies? Have you
created a life for yourself where you can experience them?
I have.
I am fucking crazy. But I am free.
(Lana, why are you doing this to my soul, it hurts)
