In an Industrial Park
I had spent the afternoon watching Taxi Driver.
I was completely alienated from society at the time
and so I could relate somewhat to the movie's crazy, semi-hermetic main character, Travis.
He says a line about loneliness in the film which particularly affected me. Out of Travis'
brooding and isolation flower some pretty extreme ideas and, after a short period of intense focus and planning,
he springs into violent action.
What would flower out of my brooding and isolation as the afternoon waned on? Photography was my only
hobby and I decided that my modest adventure would be to go take pictures in a not so safe area. I drove up the
5 freeway and exited near the City of Commerce, for the most part a drab, inhuman place.
I drove around an industrial park; I don't recall seeing a single person. There were some businesses scattered
through the area which were nicely kept up and that made things seem less scary (disappointingly?).
After some general exploring I found a large stretch of open land which seemed interesting and I got out of the car with my camera and tripod.
When industrial parks, power plants, and urban rivers were built, there were about zero aesthetic considerations
taken into mind; they are completely utilitarian. Puzzling on a personal level is the fact that these structures, planted in the soil of unfeeling industry, are lovely to me-- gazing at them relieves my chronic boredom.
Slowly declining, neglect and impending dysfunction characterize many of these places.
At the older ones, sometimes, you can get a feel for the junking of capitalism and the inevitable victory of wildness.
I had begun my trip feeling miserable and insecure. In search of a bit of redemption through risk-taking, I was a lone adolescent
who wanted to feel for a while like a lone man. As I shuffled across the dirt and weeds, though, and looked up at the towering poles and wires, I began to feel like a little child.
Consciousness of the inpropriety of my being there dissolved, and while the environment retained its strangeness, things seemed much nicer. For a brief time I was happily lost in a benign Twilight Zone.
After a while my feelings began to even out. Pragmatism set in. I took as many shots as I thought were necessary to bring home some of the essence of this world. I was surprised to find a parked trailer out in a small, empty lot. It would be so weird to spend your nights as well as your days in the midst of this sprawling, faded milieu; it would be like being stationed at a desert outpost. 
I can frequently be morbid, taking a special interest in the decline and fall of great things; I certainly found it interesting to be in the midst of what was declining here. As said above, capitalism was being junked. At the same time I was in tune with a certain dreaminess; it had the sweetness of what is windblown and unrestrained. The industrial park seemed transfigured.