LA

There's something at my core that speaks to me and says with contrived certainty, "Brian, you despise Los Angeles. The thought of it's generalities makes you cringe; the scenes, the materialistic nature of the city and its people, Ed Hardy, clubs with covers... The dry-shit tint on the horizon and the hep-C ocean water makes you feel dirty, afraid of taking deep breaths. Brian, you don't want to be here." That's the general consensus anyways. But hey, I've never been a fan of the big picture, been dreading it really.

Thankfully, there's comfort in the details. Those small little gems in a city so bent on it's own status and persona while it slowly decays from the center. Morally, ethically, economically, the decay encompasses it all, in a dreary drawn-out effort to push me away.

It's those small gems that keep me coming back. Those scattered few individuals and situations I find myself with that bring warmth to places the smog-soaked sun can't touch, no matter how hot it gets. Venice; the shop, main street. Driving with the windows down in the middle of winter because it's still 70 degrees outside. Seeing people, sharing memories. Making new ones. Sharing a spliff. Rolling another. Maybe rolling one more. Stories and quiche, somas and the such. I don't expect anyone to understand, but these ramblings, these plucked occasions remind me why LA is the city I grew up in, a city I love.

[TIME FOR CLASS]