Caught A Ghost

There are no seasons in Los Angeles. It's devilish pleasantness warms the heart just enough to keep its citizens in suspended animation, where the dream and the reality can exist as one, despite their obvious differences. A playground of light and shadows, the optimism and bitterness of our town cycle into one another, as fresh crops of flowers perk their pretty heads up, then wilt and return to the soil. When it rains, the city is finally clean and free from smog, as if all the broken dreams had been washed into the ocean. We meet our hero in a town where anything and nothing is possible. The night runs the day, and whiskey is the currency of bad choices. Souls pass through, bright eyed, with nervous anticipation, in the search for passion and gut wrenching hunger for life. But there is no beginning and no end. Only a series of encounters.  Where there's smoke there's fire. But smoke gets in your eyes. When you're riding high, when you're running blind….

When the smoke subsides, it's just mirrors in your mind.