After exiting the air-conditioned tranquility of my car, I stepped into a sulfuric hellscape of graffiti-ridden warehouses in the blighted heart of Los Angeles. I circled my vehicle and hopped over a trickling stream, its flotsam spilling unceremoniously into the yawning maw of a nearby storm drain, then took notice of several milling silhouettes that had materialized from the nearby encampment of slick tents.
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