Head west and drive south towards the Gulf of California and leave the highway and keep driving towards the flattest expanse. Here is the land you seek. Sand lays thick on the desert plain, a layer of rust extending to the horizon. The only hint of border is a distant mountain range. This is the desert where those birthed at the shift of the century have come to give into their thirst. Very few made it out of the ‘90s and into the 21st century alive with their integrity, hits, and full head of hair, in tact. It is said that nothing can survive out here. Except for [...]
-De los Video Music Awards de MTV?
She stands against a blank plane, eyes blue, eyelashes weighted down in black ink. Her mouth is parted, painted in bright red pigment like the women of the night in the outskirts of La Playa. She has come from the west. A single salt-laden tear hovers and falls. Memories of twerking bears and motor-boating a big butt start to form but quickly vaporize into a faint smell of stale weed. The sky is an unmodulated grey and lies heavy in a post-roofie molly [...]
This is the west. The west of the San Fernando Valley. This is Encino, an old Chumash word roughly translated to "she’s just being Miley." It's a land of vertical blinds, shag carpeting, and that unrelenting desert of adolescence. The sky meets land and doesn't ask us why but asks why the eff not. Then the sky does a line of cocaine off a toilet. The kids here live in the pre-dawn hours and party until the sky transforms into an endless plane lit by shades of fire made more vibrant by the vision of the pill they call molly.
The girl, the one they call Miley, with [...]