Missy Jubilee. Free. Long Form Script

Free. Freedom is a big blue bus and a ticket to ride

People often ask - what do you want out of this?




What I really want is to fix up the big blue bus, and buy a ticket to ride that says 'you don't have to come back here. Ever'

I once had dreams of becoming a poet
But an unfortunate series of events 
Saw those dreams 
Dashed and divided 


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
They asked me...


But there's no use in talking to normal people about abnormal things

My mother told me 
I had a chameleon soul
With no moral compass
And no fixed personality

Because I was born 
To be the 'that' woman
Who belonged to no one
Who belonged to everyone
Who had nothing
But an obsession for freedom 
That terrified me

Every night I used to pray 
That I'd find my people
And finally I did


We had nothing to lose
Nothing to gain
Nothing we desired anymore
Except to make our lives 
Into a work of art
To stop the heavy shit raining on us

Because money can't fix that

Sitting atop a foot hill
Looking out and up 
Toward the range ahead
A summit that is never breached

Ironic isn't it
That it is only when you reach the summit 
That another appears
Taller, grander and more challenging

Life is a motherfucker sometimes

And so we go

If this hill doesn't kill me 
Then chances are that next hill
Won't either

One may wonder 
Who the fuck designed this gig?

Did they ask...

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
But there has been a price
Because I am fucking crazy

And isolated

But I am free


And no-one will ever
Take that away from me
Because I don't want that cloud of pain again

So close your eyes
And just count to fuck

You're not a frisbee
That's not a roof
And you're not stuck

"Frisbeetarianism is the belief that when you die, your soul goes up on the roof and gets stuck"
-George Carlin

- Some words adapted, remixed, cut, pasted  & wasted from Lana Del Rays' 'Ride'