Tuesday, October 16, 2012

ride.


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. 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. They have no idea what it is like to seek safety in other people, for home to be wherever you lie your head.

My mother told me I had a chameleon soul. Just an inner indecisiveness that was as wide and as wavering as the ocean. Who belonged to no one, who belonged to no one, 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 it, and pushed me to a nomadic point of madness that both dazzled and dizzied me. 

Every night I used to pray that I would 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. I believe in the kindness of strangers. And when I am at war with myself, I ride. I just ride. Who are you, are you in touch with all of 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.

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