A Little Misery

its a very surreal feeling when suddenly, nothing matters anymore.

had i been at home, and my things been stationed in their usual precise placement around my room, i think it safe to say that i would swept my arm across each flat surface, flinging all those items i had spent such careful hours selecting, letting them crash into the walls, or crumble to the ground, because for me, they had lost all meaning. i would have sunk to the carpet, or possibly curled up in the rubble, and cry for those things lost. not because they were broken, but because their importance had disappeared.

all importance has disappeared.

but i digress, because i was NOT at home, and all of my things are NOT placed around my room, in a precise manner, as they usually are, because my things are all in boxes, awaiting the eventual move that will happen "any day now" (or so i've been told for a month). its probably better that way; they are protected that way. they sit in boxes ironically labelled "handle with care". why should they be handled with care? does it really matter if they break? i suppose i used to think so. but now, i think part of me would relish in a morbid, slightly ritualistic destruction of them. like a cleansing of these "things" from my life.

because once again, i hoped. i pressed my face eagerly against the glass, only to be looking in at the candy store, but never allowed to taste the sweets. because other girls are lucky. not me. other girls meet a man, start a relationship, fall in love, and live blissfully with that person. often at their first time at bat. but for me, i just swing and miss until my arms are tired.

so, to all my things, my little "once precious" posessions, i apologize. you are haneously useless. you are but little broken dreams packed in newspapers and bubble wrap, trapped in a cardboard darkness. i wish that you could comfort me, but it seems that once you know what you want, anything else just seems a waste. and all that i want is in someone else's arms.

what's worse, is all that i want has someone else in his heart.

so i'll retire my thoughts for now and swim in a little misery.

a little scetch post and some whining

i was working on a little sketch of Komachi and decided to take a picture. sharing is caring.

for once, i think i'll ink it traditionally. you know, just for laughs. not that i really ever ink anything anyway. i mostly just use the pencil as the lineart. but after staring at Kanon Wakeshima's artbook for so long, i have gotten the inkling for inking.

come to think of it, i don't think i've done any drawing in well over 2 weeks. maybe even 3. i've had so much going on, i haven't drawn, or done fashion design, or anything creative worthwhile. but i needed a good distraction. i was pissy over something that is probably nothing. i suspect a friend may be acting in a manner not-so-friendlike. which is exactly what bothers me--- i assume the worst before knowing the facts. i've been giving him the benefit of the doubt though, which i will do until i talk to him and get the real story. but if there indeed *is* foul play afoot, than i'm going to introduce him to the business end of a bitch-slap.

Tanabata Festival [Little Tokyo, Torrance]

I walked down the streets of Little Tokyo in Los Angeles California, and as i strolled through all the booths in the plaza, i actually felt out-of-place because i WASN'T wearing a Yukata.

o_O.

Not that it really mattered; at that time of morning, the festival wasn't crowded, and there was a hardly a yukata-wearing woman to be seen. however, it just didn't feel like a summer festival [natsu matsuri] without one. or perhaps i just watch too much anime and find myself in dorkish admiration of the star-studded evenings on a summer night when the characters all don summer kimono and eat and play amid the bursting fireworks.

but yes, i admit it; i wanted a yukata. to you know, be one of the "cool people". despite the festival filling with yukata as the day wore on, i still stuck out like a sore thumb via my platinum blonde hair and severely american appearance. oh well. caucasian is as asian does.

i was attending the festival with my friend john, but happily ran into Hiko and her boyfriend, Lek. i have no problem admitting my jealously of Lek for having snatched up one of my positively favorite galpals. she's just too cute. her face brings me joy. which i made very clear to everyone in a 20 foot radius when i screamed her name and ran towards her. i declare, i just don't know WHAT has happened to my shame.

Aside from taking multiple pictures of the decorations, which i love, i also took a few of the Labbits from the museum exhibit, and a few random candids.

i am also proud to say i managed to find a Cure Mint trading fig [my favorite Precure ^___^], the first volume of Suite Precure manga, and 2 Kanbe Miyuki musicals, which i snatched up for only 50 cents. what. a steal.

oh, and not that i should admit it, but i also got 2 goldfish from the goldfish scoop game at the Marukai Tanabata festival. but, i didn't actually win them. i failed like 4 times. i think they were consolation fish. oh well. at least i got fish. i named them Rodolpho and Jean Luc.

 it really is impossible for me to pass up takoyaki.

 john's "i don't want to be here" face. xD even though he did want to be there.