Finding zen amidst a sea of slow-ass bitches.

I was going to write about the assh*les driving on the streets of Los Angeles tonight as I returned from my afternoon writing class. About the man at the crowded gas station in Koreatown who slowly cleaned his car windows as I waited to take his place, though his tank had finished filling. About the woman in my class who speaks at a rate so slow that my brain cannot process the meaning of her words, and does so [I believe] in an attempt to seem 'deep.'

But instead, I want to breathe and let it all go. I want to remember the clouds today as they drifted through the sky after the rain, revealing a stunningly blue sky. I want to recall the shadows of pink that hovered above the skyline as the sun was setting this evening as I drove home on the 10. *

* Please note: taking pictures out of one's car window on the freeway is not safe, nor advisable, nor should it be attempted at home. Um, yeah, lesson learned.

Photos: Taken on Jessie B. R.'s Crackberry, 12:45 p and 5:45 p respectively