I'm thinking about Los Angeles...

…and all the things about it I couldn’t stand — the traffic, the weather, the sprawl, the earthquakes, the traffic, the lack of good bagels, the dusty rain that would leave my car dirtier than before, the bevy of weirdos I worked for, the TRAFFIC — and feeling so extremely sad for the strange, peerless city I lived in, however grumpily, for 10 years, the city where friends who have worked so hard to sink roots into its sandy ground have been struggling to find jobs in a broken industry and homes in a market that becomes more and more laughably unrealistic every day, the city that takes so, so much from you, but also

the city where weirdos could become bosses and you could draw flowers in the dust on your car and there was actually OK pizza and the shaking ground simultaneously lifted you off of and tethered you to the earth and there were tacos and frozen yogurt and comic book shops and theaters and museums everywhere you looked and you could cool your baked body in the freezing Pacific Ocean and as long as you didn’t have to pee it felt good to blast music and belt on the 405 and you’d get together with your friends in your same-same apartments and make shit together because if you didn’t, you wouldn’t survive,

so if there’s one thing about LA that I know in my bones, it’s that it’s always taking, cruelly and constantly,

and there are always people making shit together

and surviving,

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