The Great Escape
I used to travel to Los Angeles on a bi-weekly basis in a past life of mine. The sites and sounds of L.A. attracted me like metal to a magnet, I was hooked by the hustle of it all but as time moved forward and I started to truly reflect on who I am/wanted to be, as a person, the allure/magnetism began to weaken.
It's not only bad that we live in a country of countless abundance, yet people beg for food, change, a chance, it's doubly bad that "we" as a society are becoming holistically numb to these cries for help.
I know, it's a choice, it's a choice to simply give up on life and say, "Eff it, I just don't care any longer..." but even in that choice, others such as myself become burdened with the defeat of it all.
As I stood on an overpass and snapped the picture you see above, I observed the artwork on the side of the freeway (which really pulled me in), I saw the cars, some super fancy, some simple, and I watched as they all piled up and came to a standstill (traffic).
The idea of traffic wasn't only taking place below, on the freeway, it was beginning to occur from where I stood as well; I saw blankets, cardboard boxes, and people starting to gather for a night underneath the "stars", a night in between trash containers, nooks, and benches (human traffic).
The planters across the street from the Los Angeles Federal Courthouse building appeared to be nailed down and tarped off to deter the homeless from sleeping in them. I followed my footsteps for a moment and I saw a trail of liquid which led to a pile of shit on the side of the street (internal laugh), shit on the street, shit in the City of Angels.
Alas, I'm sure one can find human feces in any city, however I found myself remembering the lights, the cars, the allure of this place, this Mecca of hustle and bustle. It's in places like L.A. and New York, people are told, "If you can make it here, you can make it anywhere."
I for one, like to think that it's not about the place, the zip code, the job/industry, or the money but the alluring mentality of it all has many entranced with the notion of what's truly important.
Am I becoming old, in my young age? We're tied to our phones, mindless videos/Snapchats, and Instagram feeds; I swear if I see another picture or video of a guy applying salt to a steak or a room full of people mimicking mannequins, I'm going to lose my shit.
Yes, I said it, "Shit..."
In a city of bright lights, stars, and cars, I made my escape homeward; I'd like to think my city is different yet as I pull close to my house I see the homeless encampment half a block away from my house, in an open field. I've called the city's homeless task force unit at least seven times within the past few months, "This is an eyesore and something needs to be done".
It appears there's no real great escape from the problems at hand but it does seem one must get lost in their phone, or Snapchat Spectacles in order to truly escape.