How about you just throw bird seeds at yourself.

The wise words of my friend Sally Kikuchi. That was her response when I told her that I was going to be the woman in the movie The Birds and I was going to stick birds in my hair and have blood drip from my head. Good point Sally Kikuchi why don't I just throw bird seeds so that the L.A. pigeons attack me.

I'm on a good morning high right now because some small mundane happy things happened this morning. I was feeling a bit shitty in my home but as with many things I feel unhappy whenever I am facing the mundane.

Sometimes the static seems to be more accompanying than the newscasters. The newscasters bring bad news. Tonight a shooting occurred in South L.A and killed a couple in their car. Research states that coffee will increase your blood pressure. The Michael Jackson court case is the most important thing and requires hours of coverage from our news station. Tomorrow will be a forecast of 96 degrees with some clouds coming in. Get ready to hit the beaches! Fuck you channel 2, 4, 5, 9, and fox news. You're fucking useless and pounce on the vulnerabilities of suburbia. My vulnerabilities. Static on the other hand brings you a different type of bad news. The type that makes you realize that life is more than just staring at a blank screen and receiving creativity and good fuzzy feelings. Although static does feel strangely warm at times. Warm like a trip on a sidewalk. It makes you feel like you are living. It makes you think that you are someone in this world and that your existence is actually meaningful. Static hands down trumps newscasters. Newscasters are the bringers of bad news. Static is the bringer of nothing - and that's better news. 


Today in a feeling of being useless I decided to read this book that I brought to Vietnam but never opened. Drawing with the right side of your brain. I read the first chapter and stopped after reading the list of things that I need to buy. I have all those things, they are somewhere in my art box. I don't know where my art box went but when I went to go find it in the backyard I got scared of the black widows and stopped. So I stopped reading.  Fucking poisonous spiders - what the fuck why do you exist?

Sometimes in the midst of living I forget what things mean. This usually occurs when I have to do something important, like applying for jobs and school. It's hard to be useful because for some reason our bodies naturally are useless. Perhaps this is because truth is, our lives are nothing but a speck in the abyss. The thought a bit daunting but true. You know it is that's why we don't pay attention to this truth and instead focus on things to distract us. Fears are hard to face, that's why we avoid them as much as possible. That is why I watch tv. That is why I lay on my bed staring at my computer waiting for something to happen. Waiting for creativity to happen for me.

The process of creating is anything but magical. The process of learning and becoming smart. The process of being someone. It's hard. It's extremely ugly and it doesn't look nice. Sometimes I forget this. Actually I forget this all the time and then I sit there forgetting that it's suppose to be just like this. Shitty feeling. Maybe the shitty feeling is not knowing what life will take you next. That shitty feeling is just what life throws at you. Many many people cannot handle that shitty feeling and will hide in different ways. Through statuses, through tweets, through photos, life suddenly feels good when you are able to tell your story. Tell your magical fucking story.

My story is quite magical you see. Pretty fucking magical. That's why I write this blog because I feel like I need to share this magic with you. The magic that is occasionally known as the shitty feeling.

You ever feel like your heart is being tugged? Like it's about to burst for a reason you are not willing to disclose? It's a secret and you're not going to tell nobody because you're scared. I'm scared and my heart is ready to burst for a reason that I am not willing to disclose. I think this is due to the fact that for many years I put my heart on pause and although I have recognized that love comes from a place that is not a lover, I am still not willing to let my heart be out there. I used to think that I did it once. That I let my heart burst and be out there but I was wrong. I was so very wrong. I have never let it go and for that my heart despises me. It hates me a bit because I never let it go, I never let it make mistakes and so it hurts. So now it tugs because that's all it knows. It's waiting to burst for a reason I am not willing to disclose. 


Music opens up a certain part of my brain. Good shit - now I'm hungry and going to stimulate another part of my brain. Thank you suburbia madness.