Los Angeles, lately.
I don’t think I want to live here forever. I’ve said it’s not a forever place, that maybe there isn’t a forever place that exists for me, that probably there shouldn’t be. It’s an inspiration thing, even though another thing I don’t think is that it’s possible to use up all the inspiration in one place. There is always more inspiration, as if pulling a bucket from an infinity well; the thing is simply that there is inspiration in all places, and sometimes you want to drink from the wells in those places for a year or two or eight.
Right now, in January, I can’t help thinking of those wells as frozen, depressed, gray, shivering and not laughing. Right now, in January, I can’t help thinking there’s anywhere else to be besides underneath the sun when it hits this place and makes me smile.
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