29 de noviembre de 2012



Los relatos son el deseo de la inmortalidad

nos consuelan la pena de no poder hacerlo todo, verlo todo. Nos hacen vivir miles de vidas en una sola, y sentir el pasajero sabor de liberarnos de todo lo que nos ata. Algunos viajan a través de las historias, vuelan en los sueños y siempre regresan tironeados del botón del despertador. Otros renuncian a la exclavitud del tener, para sentirse vivos, para fabricar historias.


Porque saben que los caminos son peligrosos y solo corren hacia una dirección,
pero eligiendo uno, están llendo a alguna parte.
A los demás les quedan las benébolas historias, los caminos en el aire
que como el fuego los entibia un rato, los resguarda de las bestias de la muerte y del olvido.






7 de noviembre de 2012

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 year 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, who 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 kno 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. I 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 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 of your darkest fantasies?
Have you created a life for yourself where you’re free to experience them?
I have.
I am fucking crazy. But I am free.”
— Ride Monologue - Lana Del Rey