Indie and Immigrant: a Testimony | Chronicles Of The Young Immigrant Women
Nalu Romano
Through the course of this I’ll be assuming you know who Lana Del Rey is. In case you haven’t been blessed by her religion yet, I sincerely suggest you’ll take a moment of your day to listen to the word of God. We both know you’ll do anything to escape your duties, or hell, or both, that’s most likely why you’re still reading my column – just do it. By the way, if you do read me, please let me know somehow. Doesn’t have to be a big feedback, an airplane banner will do. I feel alone here. I feel alone writing in english. I bet Lana Del Rey never felt alone in a language. Most likely because she invented it. And also because words seem to be dancing out of her mouth whenever she speaks. Although that’s very poetic it isn’t why I’m talking about her. Regardless of her sexy yet immaculate existence, what intrigues me the most about Lana is that she is a New Yorker, better said as Brooklyn Baby, who’s absolutely in love with California and will never leave somewhere else again. Imagine the guts (and butt) a woman has to have to actually trade public transportation for rented scooters. Imagine being happy everyday with this decision. Imagine your genetics were practically made out of the Brooklyn Bridge material yet you only write about San Francisco, like, what in the actual fuc*? Magically, she found her artistic place when she started to sign her love for the beach and palm trees and mustangs and west coast’s beers, all very tragically romantic. As tragic as should be every romance you have happening too far away from your mom. Now imagine living on the fault of your mom and San Andreas at the same time. Basically she’s living every immigrant’s dream: to be making money out of the drama that is being away from home but loving it. Lana Del Rey is not an immigrant nor should be treated as one – is the property in which she talks about the state she loves and lives, even though that shi* isn’t that magic at all, that blows my mind. I simply love the way she brings the lifestyle surrounding her to topic whenever she has a chance. I’m a New Yorker all the way and will never understand the perks of breathing fresh air. I love that tiny-and-soon-sinking piece of land. For two months I've been in Rio de Janeiro, writing about who I am when I’m here. Always Lana-Del-Reying my feelings for New York. Brothers and sisters, tragic is the only way possible to describe what it is to be geographically in love. Blessed be Rey. May the lord don’t open any more faults. Amen.