Bring some real, big-time immaculate, tough, one-of-a-kind dirtiness into this normal life. This is a prose for life on the road, and I don’t only mean life on the wheels, but the care-free attitude of the street life. That one life Scottie thought he had, something to him stopped at being a rebellious adventure, that was the destiny of so many like Mike, and that was never meant to be toyed.
I can not stop making connections of how this one film echoed in River’s life, so short lived yet so unforgettable. I could not bring myself to picture him, was beaten down on the street with hands trembling over broken bottle—— him at the very night finding himself breathless on the steps outside of that bar. After all those shiny, star-striking moments in Hollywood, he could not sober up form drugs and alcohol, and eventually culminated in his life with such a dramatic end. A face born with such serenity and depth, and yet marked with a mind, breathless with bright colors.
“I am a connoisseur of roads. Been searching roads my whole life. This road… will never end. It probably goes … all around… the world…”
And how could someone not believe these words, or not believe that this is the prose he’d written for his fate?
And I know, that in the end, it was Scottie that picked him up and helped him back into the car. That was Idaho, and the road went through there, to thechamber of a loner’s heart. One of a kind.
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