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Another day has passed, and another memory has been made. I’ve come to the realization that I live in a fantasy. LA bubbles itself apart from every other surrounding city, because here, we like to think of ourselves as individualistic, when in actuality we prefer to follow the trend instead of setting them. Tinseltown falls under its very own jurisdiction. We play by the rules we set. We hate when people tell us no or don’t give us exactly what we want. Think of us as spoiled kids who have nothing to show financially but a spray tan and a manicure. I do love this city though. The pretentiousness. The glamor. The facade that we all live in and make our reality. Dreams can slowly become nightmares and nightmares into Netflix hits. Nothing really makes sense here you see, but nothing is suppose too. That’s the strange mystique newcomers overlook. An entire city has been built on a dream that one day, famousness could be purchased at a price only a select few could ever afford. And from that it has become a permanent residence for the young, rich and (insta) famous. Long nights and early mornings, you must stay at the top of your game to remain in this mirage.

Never look back at the faded silhouette,

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