Thursday, March 12, 2015

Dear Los Angeles,

Dear Los Angeles,

It's been two years now and I'm still very miserable being with you. All you seem to be able to do is take and take and I have nothing left to give. You build up my expectations higher then I would ever imagine and then you rip the rug of hope out from underneath my feet. You don't believe in Karma, bad things only happen to good people when you're around. Art is no longer an expression or a creation for ones self, it's mocked and exploited at the expense of the young and defenseless.

 You drain any enjoyment of life right out of our souls, you make us addicted to money and fame until we are empty inside. You make us question our worth, doubt our talents, lose sight of the morals we once had. There are too many people here, everyone is busy trying to make it, (where… I don't know) they forget about what matters in life. It's not the who? The what? And the where? You trick yourself into thinking you're doing what you want and that you're happy because you're obsessed, devoted to the attention, the empty promises and fake friendships. 

You have no self respect, your character is flawed I hate almost every single thing about you. You are the poorest excuse for a city I have ever met, I pray every single day that I do not end up like you. The phony, favoritism, cliquey, cliché, bullshit, your “city” has the personality of my high school and I fucking hated my high school.  “It's not what you know, it's who you know” yea let's build a city based on talentless assholes that just do each other favors and trade awful sitcom ideas and movie remake budgets, because no one has any good ideas anymore. You have ruined film forever, art is dead, everyone here is living in a goddamn fantasy land. I know when I leave your heart will keep on beating, your fame and success will continue to soar, my existence will have had no effect on you- and as time passes I will forget all about you too. 

Sincerely yours,


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