I want to be crazy, I think. The more I have the opportunity to be limitless, to be free, to be the “wild child” that people have seen in me for a long time, the more I want it. I want to have tattoos that are blatant and visible, I want to wear patches, I want to encourage mischief.
I want to cause trouble and be democratic. And march for the rights of humans–women, men, LGBTQA, the future generation, refugees, immigrants, friends, enemies, those who don’t have the strength or the option to be there themselves.
I want to be outspoken and controversial. I want to desperately seek happiness and I never want to settle for content, or OK.
I want people to talk about me behind my back because they’re worried that I’ve lost it. I want to avoid partying, but gravitate towards laughter and joy and conversation.
I’m going to keep being naked in the mountains. Sorry, grandma, but I’m looking for the freedom that can often be interpreted as unrefined.
I want to take this crazy, this curiosity, this wonder and I want to channel it to creativity and productively making, building and growing the good in this world.