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I’m having a really hard time. This whole crisis is so frightening, and every time I’m forced to leave my apartment, it’s like I’m in a different city. LA isn’t LA anymore. And it sounds really stupid, but I miss it. The road rage, desperate actors, tourists...
You get it. So I drove around the areas that used to make me happy. I lived in Hollywood when I first moved here. My favorite brunch restaurant with the kombucha on tap (i knoooow) has shacked up. They were a staple there. Movies were shot there.
There was a little Pho (i think) restaurant on the other side of that building. It was really good even though it’d give you gas for a week 
https://abs.twimg.com/emoji/v2/... draggable="false" alt="🤣" title="Rolling on the floor laughing" aria-label="Emoji: Rolling on the floor laughing">. My ex met me there when I first moved to LA. Like, within an hour of me getting there. It’s a good memory. We both smiled, a lot.
I drove by the gigantic apartment on Whitley. Lots of good memories there. I drove by my dumpy ass duplex on Franklin. I drove the boulevard, which was just eerily empty. Ominous, even. I drove by my favorite In-N-Out off Orange(?). I went past shitty apartments that we looked at
I drove into Koreatown and past the old apartment. That neighborhood was a dump. I didn’t realize it quite as much when I was living in it. My actual apartment was okay, though. Other than tripping the power constantly.
I think about walking to/from the metro, sometimes really late at night. You could always smell the sickly satisfying grease from the chicken restaurants the corners. I think about times when I fell asleep on the train.
I remember watching fireworks through the entire city from the view of the tiny ass fire escape. The awful view from the window of nothing but the side of a church.
I drove over to Griffith Park (Memorial Day - bad idea). The first time I went to the observatory I made the mistake of parking at the bottom of the mountain and hiked my way up AND down in the middle of the night. It was worth it.
I remember dumb things like not having any money and going to the Shell station behind my apartment on Franklin and buying snacks. I ate a lot of lays chips and Arizona tea.
The past year or so has been bad. I’ve moved around a lot. Nothing really feels like home anymore. I get frustrated with people I live with, and leave. I get frustrated with the job, so I leave. Nothing is ever a constant.
I’m really scared that, while I’m very happy with LA as a city, and I feel like I belong here, I’m afraid the crisis may force me into moving back home. And I’m afraid I’ll lose all these times, even though the crisis forced a lot of them to close shop.
I don’t know what the point is and my ambien is kickin in, so I’ll end this. Everything is so uncertain and it’s so confusing. I don’t really know where I’m supposed to do or who to talk to, if anyone. I’m exhausted. Every day is exactly the same. Nothing.
