Los Angeles is dead inside. Aptly nicknamed, this city is not spiritual but ghostly. Its disembodied soul was hard to find and traffic across all major arteries, in which every driver and passenger was void of anger and urgency, made it impossible to feel a pulse.
The East Coast casts a long shadow, and LA bathes in smoke gray. Perhaps it was smog or simply nine days of overcast skies, but this too, added to the obscurity of its streets and old beach haunts. Dreamers beware, La La Land can put you to sleep.
I wanted to feel more alive in Los Angeles, and instead I felt overwhelming indifferent. Overpriced and underrated, I struggled to see the appeal of a lifestyle that felt too cool, but really, corpse-like. I suppose Hollywood makes you believe otherwise, but it didn’t move me, and so I remain.
Inspired Scribble 