Dear Los Angeles my dear...

The talentless hack of a server who has 100 head shots in the trunk of her car, and sits in AA every day complaining about her shitty boyfriend

The sober "artist"

That musician  with too much Ed Hardy shit in his hair, and a rockin Instagram...

The never ending parking lot of any street you turn down after 7am

The countless extras from the Walking Dead setting up tents on every freeway overpass in Los Angeles, and most of the side streets in Hollywood.

The constant flow of puzzled faces, garbed in Izod collars, khaki shorts and velcro sandals, taking pictures of the John Wayne star that some dreaded homeless guy wearing no pants took a shit on 3 days prior.

The broken stripper heel rest next to the peaceful sticky weave on the mustard stained curb, stuck with dried onion and the end of a bacon wrapped hot dog, that a rabid pigeon won't even give a second glance to...


Whatever... this is just some of the price you have to pay to live in the town that has given you everything right?  No matter how hard you try and sabotage yourself, people still let you live your dream and blah blah all that happy Hollywood horseshit...

I used to get so mad at people, I mean, people still make me completely irate, but it's more of a "screenshot to a group chat" kind of anger these days... which is far more full-filling than being angry alone. Loud cell phone guy at the Coffee Bean used to eat me up inside for days on end... until one day I realized, he probably isn't even talking to anyone, and I giggled pleasantly to myself. Instagram rocker guy posting all his fancy shit used to make me intolerable of the internet, and the state of music in general, until I realized how lonely and shallow he is, and that that stupid internet is all he has to make him feel wanted. Some of these realizations didn't just come to me, my burning bushes came with the help of some very dear friends...

Finding a group of friends that share a common interest in people bashing is one of the most therapeutic things that has ever happened to me. I'm in about 5 group chats, everyone we bash totally deserves it, and would probably commit suicide if found out. I'm sure I'm also in a bunch of group chats with various dicks that think I'm this or that, and that's fine with me. I used to get really bummed when I heard people didn't like me, or I heard someone was speaking ill of me. Then I realized that what I say or think about that person, is more than likely a million times worse than anything they would be thinking or saying about me, and 99% of the time, I am absolutely thanking fucking God I am not that person... ever. so, fuck them anyway.
My time is limited here, and I used to spend it in total fear that I wasn't this enough, or I wasn't that enough, until I got it all and... it still... wasn't... enough...

It wasn't until very recently that I started discovering what is actually really fucking important. Like, raising my son to be a gentle warrior.

That's it.
Period.
Raising a good human, that can help.
Not raising some fucking asshole that thinks a watch or a shirt makes him cool, or thinks that being healthy is ordering a chicken sandwich from a drive thru. I refuse be responsible for someone that shop at Wal-Mart in a rascal.... your fucking parents should be ashamed of themselves.

So, here I sit. 7:45am, about to wake up my son and get him ready for school, thinking about the love I lost, and the love I still have. Writing about assholes because I've been up since 5 drinking organic coffee from Whole Foods........ I don't know who I'm becoming, but I sure as fuck am glad I'm not the person I became.