Svetlana + Belmont
La La La La/La La La La/Hey Hey Hey/Goodbye
When you told me that you were gonna spend your summer in LA doing archival research at the Huntington, USC, and UCLA libraries, I lied about the twenty thousand dollars. I hadn’t saved a fucking dime. I stole that money from my brother, just so I could spend time with you in Hollywood (which I hated, by the way, especially the desperate, holographic Cosplayers in front of Hollywood and Highland with the bloated bellies and the blood-shot rental EMOS eyes). The rest of LA though, grew on me little by little. It was one of the only places where we were allowed to be whoever we wanted and then change those definitions whimsically. LA was our theater of the mind. Now, after all this time, it's like some technocratic waste land of SX and TVC dealers, sketchy basement EMOS labs, SFC holdouts, SOS digital orgies, and TAP Counterfeiters, all trying to suck the life force out of you until the last gasp of life.
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