I want buildings taller than the eye can see(fucking deal with it)

I am constantly reminded, now, that I live in THE CITY.

There is nothing wrong with that. What so ever.

I spent the last year in a swamp cave surrounded by garden and walls and swamp queens. While peaceful and damp, I could of been living anywhere. Meanwhile, outside, Los Angeles bustled.

The thing about a city, compared to a small town, is noise. Aberdeen was a port town, so that dull clanging of ships and harbor and the occasional hoooooot of a horn was common. Loud trucks and cars were also common. Think of it as an idling chainsaw(obvious timber reference. oh here is a picture of my dad when he was a firefighter, before he became involved in the timber industry.)

Los Angeles is a port city as well. Also the second largest city, almost 4 million people as well as spanning almost 500 miles. 

It is a chainsaw in a horror movie. I love horror movies.

Sometimes(daily/nightly) helicopters circle the hills where I live. They sound like they are landing on the roof. Cars drive by constantly. Some loud, some prius, some open headered custom hotrods. A few days ago 8 firetrucks/ambulances drove by. This is the only road to the upper canyon, famous for its sign(perhaps you’ve seen it?) This canyon is home to many famous folk and wanna-be famous folk.  The whole lot. Musicians, actors, authors, poets, even scum of the earth producers and agents and industry types and lawyers and all those boring things I care little about.

So I moved apartments. Same complex, new place. The view sold me. I even pay more a month just for that. Look at the city, look at the city change me. I can see boho, hollydown, downtown, even the scientology celebrity center(that actually obstructs my view of downtown.) The place is great. Feels like mine, I have a giant desk and music equipment everywhere. I already finished a song.

Mind you, while I am a musician, I am captain respectful when it comes to noise levels. I have lived with a million roommates and in apartments before and I am rather giving and tolerant.

My downstairs neighbor is not.

She got mad that I was noisy during the day.

That I was listening to the same song for hours.

Yup. Thats how I make music. Did I mention the volume is low? I’d like to list the complaints she’s given and explain the circumstance for each of them and how if she had one iota of tolerance she would of overlooked all of them. ‘Listening to music at 2am’ does not mean 67 seconds of showing jaime a song at 40db. ‘Drumming’ is not me hitting a practice pad. And as to why her windows were shaking while I was playing gears of war with fucking headphones on? Maybe she’s crazy.

She has another thing coming if she expects me to be more quiet than I have been. If I was a bastard I would just crank these wonderful monitors to their clip point.

But I am not that way. She will just have to fucking deal with it. Remember that the city is noisy. Don’t move to the city for peace and quiet. While I stare out my windows at firetrucks and helicopters and love them, I picture her stewing in hatred and bitterness. She’s probably a defeated soul who projects her inner hate onto others.  Sad, really. She should just look out her window and remember how beautiful noise is.