About Lana

Tweet enough times and you’ll end up here. It’s expected in my milieu. Cherries, lambs, Lana. Patron saint of the sensitive young woman, rich or poor, Tumblr-fied or Normal. In 2016, long before I got online, I was 22 and I lived in Seattle with a roommate who would listen to Honeymoon with tears in her eyes. I would roll mine with disdain. I never got it. “Why can’t it just be magic all the time?” What. Why be sad when you could be happy?