LA is where I grew up but I never stop feeling like a stranger there. I've always hated how winters in this plastic city never look or feel like real winters. At best the posh boulevards and avenues are emptied of fakes and wierdos by a sudden storm, washing away all the dust with its heavy scouring rain. But then, just a few minutes later, the California sun comes out again and the skies clear up as if nothing had happened. Everything goes back to what it just was, only shinier. This is not like in the movies, everything really is exactly the way it first seems.
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