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Another day invaded my space in the form of warm sun rays burning through my resin stained curtains. Outside the city awakes town by concrete laden town until the whole of the city all hums as one. Along the edge of the world the Pacific sits as calm and still as that thick brown layer of pollution above our heads. The smell of baked bread makes its way up the graffiti dressed alley ways and past the cheap pill box apartment buildings. The boiling pots of crab send a unseen signal all throughout this Port side Gem of a town. The air is once again filled with diesel and unleaded gas fumes as the mass grows larger high above our heads. Someone forgot to separate the waters from the waters. Again rain falls as hail somewhere in the opened sea. Men and their machines chew up the highways in both directions. Some cursing into the wind and others singing along with some God awful country song. Cities aren't made to last forever even Rome had to die in order to be. I could turn my back on them all and not miss a beat. It's the city itself The city full of Lost Angels, Has Beens, ****** and Godless Gangsters that won't let me go.
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Mar 29, 2016
Mar 29, 2016 at 8:19 PM UTC
Lost Are The Angels
Another day invaded my space in the form of warm sun rays burning through my resin stained curtains. Outside the city awakes town by concrete laden town until the whole of the city all hums as one. Along the edge of the world the Pacific sits as calm and still as that thick brown layer of pollution above our heads. The smell of baked bread makes its way up the graffiti dressed alley ways and past the cheap pill box apartment buildings. The boiling pots of crab send a unseen signal all throughout this Port side Gem of a town. The air is once again filled with diesel and unleaded gas fumes as the mass grows larger high above our heads. Someone forgot to separate the waters from the waters. Again rain falls as hail somewhere in the opened sea. Men and their machines chew up the highways in both directions. Some cursing into the wind and others singing along with some God awful country song. Cities aren't made to last forever even Rome had to die in order to be. I could turn my back on them all and not miss a beat. It's the city itself The city full of Lost Angels, Has Beens, ****** and Godless Gangsters that won't let me go.
anthony-b-perales
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Mar 29, 2016
Mar 29, 2016 at 8:19 PM UTC
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