When the birds told me to smile.


Laptop on this dirty table, glowing back at me at 4:54am sitting on layers of pot and cigarette ash, acrylic paint, dirt, dead leaf, littered in soda cans and coffee cups and paper towels and art experiments and paintbrushes and buttons and razor blades and rolling papers.  I don’t know why the fuck I just woke up, and I fell asleep on the couch with my boyfriend watching anime. Humoring my keyboard for lack of anything better to do waiting for the incense triangle I lit to waft away into the ceiling and eisley is done singing pretty songs to me. I might be waiting for the sun to rise so I can go for a walk with my nose feeling unattached and my eyes like planets in my face. I might be waiting for all sorts of things.

I got a new dress today and got told that I’m an asshole by my generally cranky and depressed but good-hearted best friend and I couldn’t even feel bad about it. Going with the flow is important to me, I guess. At least we both had a good experience talking to the fish that rubbed against our wet legs at the beach earlier. The fish are always talking to everyone and have the most relevant messages. “Keep moving forward, like the perpetual waves of the sea”. I’m trying and I want everyone else to try, too. I might be impatient.

I cried the other day because I am negative so much money in my bank and I am still just a lowly design intern, working for free and I would be essentially homeless if I didn’t have such extremely good friends that are willing to help me and have the faith that I never had in myself to do good things. The very next day, I was told there is an intention of offering me a position with my start-up and I feel blessed that every time I feel like I am drowning in debt and shit and being a poor example of a self driven individual that I want to be, life tells me to keep going. Sometimes it is fish when I am feeling angry at people for being stubborn, maybe its flocks of birds when I feel like dying, sometimes its a mood changing itself for no apparent reason whatsoever, but for whatever it is- thank you.

just sitting here with lipstick on

I sometimes like to sit on the bathroom floor with my laptop.


I pretend its like my own miniature office, complete with a toilet and a  pile of clothes on the floor and various colors of lipstick in disarray with my two toothbrushes and vitamin supplements and incandescent lighting.  There is also a publix reusable grocery bag on the floor, but it lacks a bathroom specific purpose and I cant reason why it would be in here. Cold applesauce is stirring in my stomach right now, or maybe that’s the feeling I know I deliberately broke a heart and there’s nothing I can do to stop him from hating me. I need a hug. My feet tire from walking 8 miles to and from work every  other day. I cant even call it work because I am just an intern and no one knows what lengths I go to get there to sit in that cold office and design graphics and strategize social media accounts for free.

Yesterday, at 7:30 am I left the door with my chromebook, charger, some water and a few other personal items in my bag and started walking. It was pretty out, one of those mid September in Florida days where the clouds covered the beating sun and the birds were traveling with the wind. I walked and walked and walked, right through this suburban area that I live. Passed old houses that have been around for decades and look dilapidated but still so full of life. As I traveled, the houses became less cared for, the houses turned into buildings. Auto garages, antique shops, psychics and Cuban restaurants, a barbecue place that was smoking ribs and making my belly grumble. I passed a daycare center, a thrift store, a building littered with presumably homeless people waiting for free food and several massive churches. I walk through the societal hierarchy, leaving from suburbia, walking through the ghettos, and arriving in the bustling downtown Tampa where I am greeted by beggars, people sleeping in small flower beds, and people in business casual clothing unaware of their surroundings entirely.  The most memorable part of yesterday morning was watching the ground as I walk, with the pixies serenading me through my ipod, and seeing a flock of tiny camouflage birds emerging from a bed of leaves.

A flock of tiny camouflage birds emerging from a bed of leaves.

Just think about how beautiful that was. It made me cry. This is my life, three days a week. Eight miles. Working for free, exhausting my little feet, and crying about birds.