Are killing me
AS in the way to Culver City requires 23 stops and takes an hour, all-told, should have a second option that is not over an hour by going surface streets — ecotransit is a dream here, something that actually worked in a city that is current in most every other way–the ‘city’ matches the idea of itself. LA is supposed to be ahead of the curve with consciousness yet we are addicted to driving everywhere and the culture here actually shames you for not having a Mercedes to climb into and worry about how your freelance career is going to pay for all the external reinforcements you need in this town.
The train is a step but you get dropped off in an arid no-man’s land on La Cienega, again where the car is king. You don’t want to be there, in fact, you’d rather be in bum-fuck nowhere hitchhiking in the desert than on the street corner of an L.A. street with no sidewalks.
This gives me the idea for a cartoon. I think I want to retire from reality tv after Greenland will be brutal on this out-of-shape body and cannot-be-prepared-enough brain. I thought one day this week for the first time ever that maybe I didn’t want to do ‘this’ anymore–this adventure making story telling struggle that is never right and always has big time disappointments (as a creative satisfaction and by golly the money isn’t good enough for someone at my ‘level’– too much nefarious activity for me. What the hell is the virtual replacement coz life ain’t free.
Off to the top of the world in only ten days and woefully unprepared on every level.