i think i’m in love.
i think i’m in love and not with a boy, or a girl, or even another person. i think i’m in love with where i live. the dirty city of los angeles. i know this is supposed to be one of the loneliest places on earth and i can’t say i’ve been completely immune from thinking that way, but this city is amazing. it can be whatever you want it to be. crazy or chill. glam or grunge. city or beach. fake or real. drunk or sober. it took a while to grow a little thicker skin and get used to “constant sell” attitude but thanks to a brief friendship with a magnetic personality and a recent series of unfortunate events i just sort of had this epiphany: i can do this too.
i’m not condoning any type of “fakery”. that is still something that i cannot tolerate in myself or close friends, but learning to be your own crazy self and overcoming a little bit of shyness can change your world. it’s not like i’ve completely gotten rid of my slight case of neurosis, but i finally am starting to feel free. to enjoy life. to enjoy being myself. to know who “myself” is. and it’s not like i’ve got it all figured out, but i’m OK with that. there’s plenty of areas that need a little work (including getting off my lazy bum and buying a damn fridge and a replacement spare tire for my car). but i’m getting there and enjoying the ride and that’s all a girl can ask for.
