There are three kinds of people on Venice Beach.
- Tourists (blind)
- Broken people (can see only through a glass darkly)
- Commuters / people passing through (blind)
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Things seen on Venice Beach after hours:
- A scruffy, middle-aged man walking a husky
- A lone cigarette butt in a sidewalk crack
- A chopped off pineapple top
- Two lesbians wearing neon colors and talking about restaurant food
- A forsaken tennis racket and a split tennis ball
- A lone cop sitting in a cop car reading a book
— § —
Some Americans stereotype Europeans as not ever wanting to bathe. This is of course untrue. There are actually two kinds of Europeans:
- Those who never bathe
- Those who always bathe, as in as soon as the damp wears off, they’re hopping back in for “a quick shower” again
There doesn’t seem to be much in between.
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Innocence, once lost, can never be regained.
People imagine that this is a one shot deal, a saying about the end of childhood. In truth, it applies to a great many things, over and over, throughout entire lifetimes.
It’s another way of saying that time moves only in one direction and death lies at the end for everyone.
— § —
Life is about making compromises.
Most of them are compromises you never though you’d make, and that you’d have sworn—as a young person—that you’d never, ever, ever make.
Every situation and choice for young folk is context-free. They don’t have enough life under their belt yet to understand just what the accumulation of life means for a person, how the larger and larger circle of what you are and can’t afford to lose means a smaller and smaller list of hills where one can reasonably plant one’s “die here” flag.
When the end is closer than the beginning is, it’s a lot harder to say you’ll die for this or that position.