where are the pretty pictures?

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7.01.2002 | link |

girl in los angeles  

summer nights are one of the few things that redeems living in L.A. the rooftops breathe after a long day under the sun's relentless baking. windows and doors are opened to sooth you with the cool night air. local kids are shooting off early firecrackers. and you can hear the distant wailing of a neighbor's mexican ballads.

you feel good about being alive. and for a moment, you can almost recapture the feeling of summers that have long passed. like when you were little. bathed and yawning after a day of swimming in uncle's pool. cheeks and nose freckled and burnt. lungs sore from the smog. but it didn't matter--'cause mom said you could go again tomorrow.

and where memories are fragmented, photographs fill in the gaps. toothless grins and antics immortalized by dad's old kodak. the hideous lime-green swimsuit. shiny, browned arms hanging around your cousin's shoulders. with your faces stained by cherry popsicles.

who cared what the mothers and fathers and uncles and aunts discussed behind the sliding glass door.

because when else, but when you were little, did you have such freedom? from sadness. bitterness. worry. and fear.

so i'm waiting for the sun to set.


let bygones be bygones.

friends, gods, strangers

don't look now, but


nightstand clutter
bust magazine

thanks squidfingers
for the pattern!

all original writing, photos,
and content on this site is:
©2002-2005 armeen y.

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thank you. and good night.