I Do What I Want. I Try

Everyone I Know Shares Toothbrushes. Everyone I Know Sleeps On Each Other's Floor. Everyone I Know Uses What They've Got And Shares What They've Got.

I Want To Live In A World Where Miley (or Any Female Musician) Can Twerk Wildly At 20, Wear A Full-cover Floral Hippie Mumu At 37, Show Up At 47 In See-through Latex, And Pose Semi-naked, Like Keith & Co, On The Cover Of Rolling Stone At 57 And Be Applauded For Being So Comfortable With Her Body.

I Don't Feel At Home In New Orleans. I Don't Feel At Home In Austin Or L.a. And I Just Felt Immediately At Home In Northern Australia.

I Have A Handful Of Really Close Relationships In My Life And I Depend On Those People Heavily To Carry Me Through And To Help Me Stay Steady.

There's A Part Of Me That Is Really, Really Happy With All Of My Success Lately Because Of What It Can Get Me And What It Can Buy Me In The Fact That My Music Will Hopefully Reach More People. But It Also Makes Me A Little Bit Miserable Because The Minute The Spotlight Is On You, People Start Flinging Sh*t At You For Whatever Reason.