I love those mornings that somehow manage to slip in under the radar of most of LA.
Usually the forerunners of a new swell or the last vestiges of a dying one.
Those mornings when you find yourself commenting to yourself that "it really doesn't feel like a Friday". After becoming comfortable with a place, you sometimes lose a level of awareness and sensitivity; understanding how things work and what your place is more cerebrally. But then when you step outside of your bubble, and are promptly and sometimes severely beat down, you're quickly reminded of how alive and critical things can still be out there in that big blue world.
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