Hollywood

Los Angeles is a city with no centre.

It sprawls, there’s no downtown. The city is endless and the vastness gets too much. It’s so powerful it can vibrate a room and shake walls, climb underneath a road and haunt a neighborhood. It passes through you and you catch it, no matter how much you try to protect yourself.

The giant aloneness.

You pass a woman walking her dog, she’s forty, you can tell in the sunlight. Her jeans are too tight and they probably cost three hundred dollars. Her hair is too long, like a teenagers, but it’s perfectly streaked. Her body is filled with a wiry energy. She spends too much time exercising. You can see how she looked once, that she was beautiful once, young and fresh and beautiful once.

It follows her like a shadow.

People look old trying to be young. People look ugly, trying to be beautiful.