In a couple days I’ll be moving out my cockroach ridden apartment in Koreatown and moving to Hollywood. I can’t explain the eagerness I feel. Let this be a lesson, don’t pick a place to live based on the fact that you like the art deco crown molding and brick walls. Because in reality it’s just an old building with more holes and cracks in it than an LA sidewalk and walls thin like tissue. In a couple weeks I’ll be free from the wet dog smells and the constant sounds of late night disgusting cries from my neighbors fucking.
But I digress.
Packing all my items in boxes and suitcases, it’s interesting to see all the items from my dresser or my desk just sort of lumped together. Visually they’re like keepsake boxes, each having their own mood and tone. Little pieces of me piled together.