The things I see in LA really blow my mind, especially in the few times I’ve ventured for a night out. I mean, SHIT. Cue the inevitable and unfailing sea of boys gawking at all the girls in line to get into the club with big hair and big butts, straddling the line somewhere between barbie dolls and drag queens. What blows my mind beyond that is how many of them (guys and girls alike) genuinely feel like they’re better than everyone else.
But think about it.
If they’re all thinking that they’re better than everyone else, then they’re all thinking the same thing. If they’re all thinking the same thing, then they’re all acting the same way. If they’re all thinking and acting the same, then what that equates to is they’re ALL THE SAME. None of them are better than the next, none of them are different.
Everybody is a “producer”, an “artist”, an “actress”, or a “model”. Your “waitress” has a record deal. Your “personal trainer” just came back from being on tour. To top it off, everybody knows everybody. At least…in that LA world.
I’M NOT EVEN GOING TO SPEAK ON LA TRAFFIC. I’LL EXPLODE.
On the other hand, I’ve seen another side of LA…the working side. The pool of talented individuals, young and old, who grind to their heart’s content, who work endlessly to make a name for themselves, with quiet ambition…who move in stealth, and in silence. The humble, geeky reality television editor who makes well over $4k a week and comes to work daily in jeans and a t-shirt; versus the gaudy rapper decked in gold chains, who goes to Supperclub weekly and spends $2k of someone else’s money to “pop bottles” and have all the “bad bitches” at his table. The women in the working industry who keep their clothes on, wear no make up, and only have 100 followers on Instagram because they spend their time working and at home with their loved ones, rather than taking selfies in public bathroom mirrors.
This is the side that inspires me, this is the side that I identify with, this is the side that I gravitate toward. I spend my nights at home, working away on my laptop or painting on a canvas. Every weekend is spent developing and working toward my ultimate goals, dreaming up and manifesting the roadmaps to a bright future with the promise of happiness. Although a night out on the town is usually fun, that happiness is very temporary and short lived. I like the sound of long term, I like the sound of longevity. So I remain a hermit, only to re-emerge when I’m ready. If you know me, you know how often I used to go out, and I’m sure hardly anyone would have ever thought I could be out-partied. But fucking hell, if I ever thought I was the party king, LA has made a fool out of me, and it’s embarrassing. Either that or I’m just too old for this shit.
I dislike most of the people in this city. I really do. This place is as fake as it gets. But underneath it all, within it all, woven into its fibers of plastic and silicone are hidden gems of true character, of real soul. At the end of the day, as hard as “real” is to come by out here, it only makes it more momentous when you find it…because you cherish it. You cherish the real, and you cherish the rareness of the real. Let’s face it, if real were common, it’d be just like the people in line for the nightclub…a dime a dozen.
All in all, despite my distaste, I am very thankful to this town, the opportunities it has sprung forward…and the way in which it has nurtured my dreams but forced me to find myself, and re-center myself, while still allowing me to grow and expand my reach. It has caused me to see the change that occurs in people (strangers and friends alike) when they think they’re finally “making it”, and thusly it has harnessed a deep inner reflection, and I am more self aware now than I have ever been. LA has kept my head in the clouds, while keeping my feet planted firmly on the ground.
I can’t say that about any other city.
I won’t be here forever, but while I am, I’m going to take her for all she’s got, sans the butt/lip injections…nevermind a “happy ending” for a pair of red bottoms.
I’m here to make a whore out of LA…not the other way around. Mom and Dad should be so proud.
Who’s down to go to SUPPERCLUB with me to celebrate my newfound antisociality?? I’ll be popping bottles with all my bad bitches at my table. ;P0 Be the first to like this post :)