Miracle of Miracles

Almost a month. I am involved in many funkinesses but that is pretty much it. It will be a busy but clear path to enlightenment for all of us.

Lively is life when I permit myself to live it. Live it long and content. Live it joyous and amorous. With love and charm. Skirts dancing to heat. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe into the night which may veil you and I behind the moon. In my crown I was lead to a star with nothing around. No nothing to be found I come bare foot stranger the prince said and turned his back. I held the light. It burnt the bright star. I let it go.

It is the soul and the spirit that needs to dance tonight. So dull. Fear shrouds the streets and street lights are dim. Darkness draws new strength to give birth to life. Miracles hide behind her sack. Only if you believe.

Inhale the frost and the fog. It is wet and all red. Purple first bled into my soul. Today is different little butterfly, we knew nothing. And we fell, one by one. Down the stairs and rigid. Time took flight. Candles molten. We knew not better. When we were just walking.

Tie me to earth by my hair. String it onto the tree. Bring me a fossil to breed. For I am no longer I and my eyes only fear. Take everything off. Take me back into your womb. When I'm not looking.




has been hovering over my head. Spring, spring, she said and she was right. That is why all flowers burn and sky is hot. In Los Angeles spring that is. I looked at Canadian spring. It was cool. Icy. Clear. Angels are burning.

For the longest time it was a fantasy. We could have gloomy gray days as well, I thought. No need to wish too hard about going to Europe... Sensations one misses. Do I have a skin? Not here in LA when it gets so hot. No skin. Only heat that sets aflame streets, cars and swimming pool waters. No place to cool off. Besides the yucky smelling refrigerator, which might or might not be cooler than the air...




He used to snuggle up from behind in bed, his nostrils moving slightly down my neck, below my shoulders, lightly touching the softness between my spine and everything else. He used to sniff my body. All different parts, as necessary. An obsession with the scent of my skin. He still sleeps with me and I miss him. His supple body streched out alone on his side. I feel alone in bed, in the cold of his body. My skin still burning, without his nose close by. Oh, how much I miss him...

And he touches me when I strech out my arm. His fingers find their way between my legs and the softness envelopes his movements. He sucks hardened nipples, rubs wet wet labia as my hips push up and down on bed. Do I ever think if my neck would break? No. He wants a piece of me and I want one piece from him. We are eager to take our share and leave. He leaves me shaking. All the pain and stress of thinking of being without him makes me shatter within myself. And an uncontrollable movement takes over my body. Exorcising what I wonder as my arms become long tentacles of an octopus. Merely a shadow in the darkness of the night. He cleans the tummy where he squirts juices. I shake until I no longer can. And I miss him again.




to know that one cannot masturbate when at work (at least at a corporate structure) I am paranoid. Wondering about cameras in the walls. Worst is that i feel the need to do it here. yeap, here at work. the tingling. that is the worst. it does not go away until it is rubbed and soothed into unconsciousness. clearly i am not having much physical thrills these days. too bad. maybe it is time to seek some.




Given I no longer write in my journal, and have avoided the blog for three weeks, I must have totally lost touch with myself. Not necessarily but most likely...

Days of decadence, worry, anxiety, lust, passion and the bleakness of days and layers of marine layer. June gloom in May. What a time, what a town...

Old car most probably already scraped and crushed. New one being used by friend. Friend leaving for NY tomorrow early morning. For good. Friend will have a party. At an old jazz bar setting in Woodlandhills. A very attractive girl will be there. And many other men I am semi-attracted to and one that is my official boyfriend that I am in love with. And this is the recipe for destruction... too many and too much...

Ex girlfriend is indifferent. How much I miss her, I am very honest about it and she is probably fed up with it. Similar situation between my ex husband and I. It is clear as day that both he and I feel very close but know we can't. Painful when we exchange e-mails. We no longer speak on the phone. And I have crushes on three people I am not supposed to be involved with... What a bummer!

Is this mid-life crisis?

I had a wonderful time with Melissa this weekend. We went on a photo safari in Downtown LA. But before that, we actually ate at a cafe and enjoyed the sun. She hated the heat and refused to walk few times. After my explanations, she felt better and kept walking. What to do???

That's all folks...
At least for now...




I got angry and spewed truth.

Question 1) What is truth good for?

Question 2) Whose truth are we talking about?

Never trust those who claim to tell the truth.



Idle in Idyllwild

Fantastic weekend in the embrace of nature. Down with horrible headache due to wisdom teeth residing inside my gum. Need to go down to the free dental clinic to get them removed surgically...



Hot Air Ballooning over CAPADOCCIA

After doing a little research on hot air ballooning in Capadoccia, I came across the below photograph at Mr. Tom Brosnahan's website. He calls it extreme east. Certainly the indicator of a great sense of humor. Check it out!


The new BJORK film is here!

The new bjork/matthew barney(artist/filmmaker) film/opera/musical whatever you'd like to call it is starting at the NUART THEaTRE (West Los Angeles) today. It will be screening for ONE week only.

Bjork's worked with Japanese culture/sounds this time around. And the result is an orgy of sounds, colors, shapes, nature and the unnatural wrapped in a thin layer of social criticism (whale hunting). And NO DIALOGUE!




Already 11 am

Does time really fly? I think it hides under rugs. In dusty places and awaits. For Godot...

There are certain days I step into a bookstore with the intuition that any moment I will bump into the key to a new world. Or the secret password to a new dimension. And if it is an extraordinarily lucky day, the passageway to the inner vortex of my soul would open after I utter the words... "Open Sesame"

Aren't works of art which hold a mirror to our own existence the most memorable ones? You want to look into my words and see who you are. Find clues into your own mysteries.

Family is unnecessary. The binding force which stops one from being themselves fully. Sometimes for years we react to the person they want us to be. Blind and deaf, we try to be the exact opposite. Just because we refuse the resemblance... And rightfully so. I wish I could stay friends with Melissa forever. Good friends, that is. I wish I'd be the person she'd call when in doubt or pain or joy. Just a door knock or a phone call away. So I could hug her for all the times I wasn't around for... How I sometimes manage to make myself unavailable even to myself... Why so much pain? So much fear for who I really might be? Is it because then my mom would fully lose me?

Canada: May I please join you my friend Sam? He once mentioned swimming in a lake somewhere around Montreal. A body of water not poisoned. That is a rearity. Pull the rug from under my feet for I no longer want to be in this reality. Meaning in the US. No magic, no surprises. History repeating itself over and over again. It is like checking the time every day only once and the clock showing 2:13 every single time. Then there must be something wrong even though time is an assumption to start with. So the existence of something wrong is an assumption built on an assumption which makes it nearly ignorable. For the worshipper of logic that is. Too many scientific minds and attorneys in this country. We are all perishing for lack of magic dust on our kitchen counters.

Take me away to that special place.

New Research: The word CONTENT as in I am content. Thank you. Why can I never be content or appreciative for the breath I inhale. That is why it is brief moments. Strings of brief moments that may strangle or elevate with joy... You choose as you string.

Someone wrote me an e-mail: "Everything was fine until I got this bug in my stomach. Sorry, need to go"



Look who the cat dragged in!

I stole a minute out of life last week to see James Ellroy read for the first time in 19 years. His surgical tongue and journalistic language had impressed me but in person... Too much testosterone, overbearing self-assurance, need to control his fans/readers, and to put up a show (which it was as the court TV cameras rolled from each corner of the packed room of Skylight Bookstore in Los Feliz) as exciting as gladiator fights. There is something profoundly disturbing about a bold old man starving for sexual dominance amongst tens of pink skinned spectators half his age. I can easily endorse the reading/q-a as the best theatrics of town on Friday. It was bizarre to say the least. And I was fully sober (not even coffee was in my veins as I walked into the packed room dripping acid rain...)

I would hate to be the victim of a crime Ellroy'd somehow write about.


VEGAN STAR of Silverlake

The restaurant opened only about a week ago. Owner and her devoted raw food chef were the most pleasant people I met in a while. They welcomed us right around closing time (they close at 9 PM) and prepared the most delicious dishes on the planet. The menu is huge, everything is vegan/organic with a rich selection of raw foods (rolls, salads,etc.) along with fresh juices, delightful desserts (yes! beyond scrumptious raspberry cheese cake:), teas and delicious water.
But the smile, respect and grace with which food is served, check is left on the table will make you come back for more. Another attraction is the architecture: the restaurant covers the first floor of a Victorian home. Just like your mommy's kitchen, sit and feel good, someone will feed you...



More Dreams and Rain!!!

More dreams. Dreamy states. Fantasies. Slowly rising above the ground. Never to return.

It is raining. A day I would not want to touch homework but I have to and how much I dread that. If I knew this year would be so rainy I wouldn't have registered for classes. There is nothing better than sitting and dreaming when it rains. Especially when the palm trees are confused, suntanned people sulk and earth reawakens, opens fully to all possibility... Pregnant and fragrant. My conscious reflects the same. Birth onto pages so white. In black ink. Not blue. I insist, black ink...

afterlife, even if the world crumbles, I will make it to James Ellroy's reading tonight. It is sort of a historic moment because there will be documentary filmmakers filming the reading and the following Q&A. His linguistic skills amaze me. Dead women he writes about, I don't know. It is the sheer intensity of terror in and in between and beyond words. Not the adrenalin rush though I wouldn't mind it... Discovering the murder the 10 year old author decided to push away for 30 some years. It is phenomenal... I have to be there...

Ana Voog. She hurt herself. At this point my affinity for her is endless. A true human not afraid to open up all her vulnerabilities. Not scarcely-clad-glossy-magazine chick. She is real and not afraid to open herself. Bridget Irish, a very funky disturbing performing artist. Loved her short films. Not for everyone. Anyhow, they are my virtual role models. Doing as they please for those who can stomach it. Who said raw truths are easy to swallow?

I was thinking, and already forgot. Oh, the Bjork film. Will begin in May. I can hardly wait. It is apparently already playing in NY.

Weekend and rain. Wanted to go out to the dessert so I don't have to study. I sound so much like a high school misfit. Next semester, I am out unless I take a writing class and fuss about writing for my writing class... I like the sound of it already.

Discoveries. Dreams. Lessons. Learnt. Unlearnt. Fantasies of dangerous games.




A long string of moods. Dreams. When I don't need them. Disturbing. Was I conscious or semi conscious? Did I actually think about how he would craddle her in his arms before sleep and touch her cheeks, her hair gently and look in her eyes with a small smile: pointing out the ease with which this victory came. Victory of having conquered her physically and emotionally. Like a father couldn't, wouldn't. Just like an older guy thanking the young girl for her virginity. Does he look into his wife's eyes that way?

I wonder because he was one of my closest friend/foe mates. You know the ones one does not exactly agree with yet finds for whatever reason intriguing... We did many things together. Shared many things. Not out of joy or choice but simply because we permitted one another to cross the rigid lines between friendship/love interest/potential partner. Because we trusted one another.

And why wouldn't he trust me? The day I met him he had no money and job and had to get his car out of the tow place. I was working like a pig not because I wanted the money. There was something I had to drown. Hours and days of numbness seemed to help. To drown the pain. So I didn't cry or pity myself. So I stood strong like a professional woman in control of her life. Numb to the soul ripped in thousands of threads I carried inside. Where my child laid two years earlier. So there he was. I paid the tow place. He screamed at them for having put a razor in front of his tire. We left. He tried to promise to pay. I could care less. "It doesn't matter. Just forget it." After that point on neither he nor I was ever shy around any issue. We somehow became family.

After my father's very unexpected death at 54, I had to clean up a big unavoidable mess thousands of miles away, in a foreign land. He paid for all my ongoing expenses with the monies I wired him from overseas, made sure my room, car and other belongings were alright. I came back to move my belongings into storage. He helped. I left for overseas one more time without any idea about the next time i'd be back in town.

About year or so later I returned. He had been driving my car. Paying insurance. He opened his apartment. We shared the only bed he had in his studio. Our skins touched. The unavoidable happened. There was no steam. No passion. Just the movements. My emotional hollow flowed from me into him as he moved gently in and out of me. Only few times. He didn't speed up. He wanted to hold me. I wanted his hands off. I wanted to finish. Finish myself, life and everything around me. I made myself come in his stuffy hot tiny studio by the busy Vermont/Beverly intersection.

I remember the humidity. My skin melting into the gray plastic car seats. My insides drowning. The choking feeling mixed with the boredom of exhaust gas and liquid oil from metal monsters. He said he was surprised how unloving I was while we made love. "There was nothing tender about it. It was like a porn film" He was a kind loving person. So I knew he wasn't blowing anything out of proportion. It was just that I never thought about myself making love. It didn't occur to me that I was actually having sex. I was blown away by his observation. "And you leave the condom laying next to bed after you're done! That is disrespectful and disgusting. I hate the smell of plastic from those things!"

We didn't really quarrel.

It was last night that I made love to him wondering if I was being tender or not. It was last night that I tried to imagine him and his wife (yes he is married with a child now) hold each other tenderly. I couldn't picture the scene. So he and I made love. I don't know why. I can't tell how much of the above is real as opposed to a fluid dream. Left behind somewhere. On the back seat of an old car, maybe.




A fantastic morning and afternoon. We climbed up a creek all the way nearly to the top of the ridge. Saw two lizards, one drowning bee, hard shelled bugs in pokemon trees and a whole lot of deer droppings. Of course all of these besides the magnificent after rain fresh soil and deep green vegitation of all sorts. I scraped my arms and my back when I fell. But it is not such a big deal when compared to the adventure we undertook. Ready for the day now.



End of Night/Taco stand/God sleeps in Rwanda/American Apparel/KPFK

My mind is in motion. Too much driving is what causes this headspin situation. And at the end of night, one needs to straighten out the head with a little something. I don't have anything. No beer or the other thing. Nothing. Totally clean. Kleen.

I did not make it to anywhere. Traffic sucked so terribly, horribly on 101. Tomorrow is my first session of physical therapy. I don't know what to expect. T'ís beyond me. We'll see what happens tomorrow.

Another restaurant. More like a taco stand. Not really it is something in between. Anyhow. Intersection of Hollywood and Vermont. Not the one opposite from StarCocks (I mean starbucks)but the one opposite from the stupid U.S. Apparellllllll. What is up with their real raw advertising campaign? Perfect for pervs. Webcam style. Perving one day will become legitimate and all of us -those who don't need complications in their sexual life- will be jailed for being abnormal. Yes, just like the gay phenomenon is becoming IN. Finally. Who needs boring straight life stories these days? Same old story. Fall in and out of love bologne. Oh, the taco stand. Yes. They have the most splendid lengua tacos. Lengua is a kind of meat. It is cow's tongue, to be precise. They chop the tongue of nasty speaking chatterbox type cows and feed them to humans that are alike to cure the human race. That's a bit far fetched I guess.

OK. Tomorrow will be a long day. Next week will be very busy. I am already scared. This weekend will be very busy too. "God sleeps in Rwanda" doc I really want to see. It is so true, what would I do if there were no KPFK's in this town. Really. What do you do? Become addicted to Christian radio stations? Really. What do people without KPFK do? Commit suicide? Maybe.

Universe, please bring my senses back to me. I need to put more time into writing my book...

Goodnight twinkling stars...



Yes. I did know an April. She was tall and pretty. Had a summer vacation house in Mexico. Nice brown skin and short hair. Beautiful deep green eyes. She was Nicole's assistant. Nicole was British-Indian mix. Very pretty. Beautifully slim and dark brown to shiny black in tones. We all worked together. At Playboy. Interesting looking back.

Today is Melissa's Open House. Long drive to Encino. Then back. Depending on time to class or to LA indy media workshop. Too much happening... too little time.

Finally received an e-mail from Kai. Not addressed to me of course. I did not understand a single thing in it. Anyhow, it is nice to see friends' names in the inbox as opposed to advertising machine's made-up silly names.

got to run into the LA jungle now...

Little sunshine and a little breeze in April... What a nice name!!!



Beverly Soon Tofu will Melt You

At the corner of Beverly and Olympic in a little strip mall. The most delicious Korean food in town. I am melting away from pleasure. Deep into sleep. In the warmth of my heater...

Try it...


This needs to be on my page! A superstitious something.

The webcounter (how many hits you get) must be a scam!


Stormy Weather

Many days in a row. Rain and hail. Once again at Night in Tunisia. Very splendid atmosphere. This time with my friend Dan. He's just come back from an emotional trip to Israel. We sat in the window and puffed away our nargile (hookah)It was fun. Only far too expensive. 40 dollars in parking tickets and 5 dollars to share the hookah. A 45 USD affair... Still, I was so relaxed from having smoked the hookah that it didn't really jar me much. I let go and wandered into the gangland. The sky was cherry red.

Looking out of my office I see puffy white clouds. This might mean that the rain is over. At least for a little while. Hollywood sign is stoic as usual. Out there in the distance. Too much to do. Too little time. Problem problem BIG problem.



FM 88.1 and Sam Woo's

A truly beautiful day...

As the sun and the rain swapped places, Rob and I hiked up to the peak of Fryman Canyon. All around us were gorgeous colorful wild flowers and tall weeds. Crisp air and the feeling of being ONE with it. Hmm.

Rest of the day was personal hygine, cooking and a little homework. Putting together the political ID project seems easy but I am nowhere close to 50. Still around 25. I posted it on the Turkish Women in the U.S. Yahoo groups yet no answer. Maybe it is because it is late Saturday. Who knows.

Then was the feast at Sam Woo's. My favorite Chinese Restaurant in China Town. Delightful food served by fresh off the boat Chinese men. No women. Just male servers. Is it so in China as well? I wonder. We -meaning Melissa (my daughter) Marina (Melissa's friend) Gloria (Marina's mom)- ordered two different kinds of soup: Vegetable and Duck, wonton and noodle soup. Both were yummy. For entree we had Pekin Duck. It is served with the skin on white buns and crispy rice chips. And finally was the dish Gloria chose from the Mandarin part of the menu because she liked the characters in the transcript. Funny looking hieroglyphs. A random and intuitive choice that worked. It was a medium sized earthen bowl with whole fish, pork meat and skin, duck meat and skin with ginger and tofu. A protein bomb. We nibbled from it. Gloria devoured the rest. I would have too if I wasn't close to bursting. That is what happens in Chinatown.

I will get ready for bed now. Melissa is curled up in her day clothes in her bed. Fast asleep. She forgot to put her tooth under the pillow. Maybe that is what I do. Put the money under her pillow...

goodnight beatiful day... And yes, 88.1 was on all day long. I love it. I love jazz. I love interpretations in jazz...



NIght in Tunisia

Fantastic evening in the company of friends and rain. LA's been so wet lately. Very uncharacteristic of a town with palm trees and seemingly happy suntanned people. The gathering place was NIGHT IN TUNISIA. We ordered raspberry hookah (nargile or waterpipe), Moroccan tea with pine nuts. A brutally scruptious combination. A must for the decadent ecclectic.


Trivial yet True

Recently my car got hit twice. Both times there were no visible bodily injuries. Finally when I managed to get myself to the doctor's and have some x-rays done, it turns out that my spine has lost its curvature in the neck. Now I take pills (:) which make me drowsy and sleepy. I don't mind besides when at my desk, I dose off to far away lands every once in a while. I wish I had a couch in my office. I tap it with coffee. The real bad kind of coffee, the one from the Hershey cappuccino maker machine with lots of sugar. And of course a Reese's pieces cup... Hmm.

Warning: Do not consume those nasty Hershey's drinks. They'll make you fatter and duller.

LA is very gray these days. Clouds are ready to tumble down any minute. Dark bulky ones. Low down right over the Santa Monica Mountain ridges. They become the thought bubble of the observatory with the new golden dome. Griffith Park Observatory in Los Feliz.

No more Hershey's coffee. My stomach is upside down. Yuck.


School Walkouts!

The number of middle school students who walked out of Greater Los Angeles schools this week is at record high. Higher than the 1968 walk-outs. Power to kids who know to take issues in their hands and deal with them.

HELLO creatures that can read and write. WELCOME to brief moments. Anything but raving and ranting. Most probably a lot of philosophy, history, economy and mythology. Very likely, there'll be lots of literature, especially poetry.

I couldn't have imagined the possibility of communicating with any and everyone in the world. But here we are. Tells us so much about the importance of the moment. Nothing that may or may not happen in the future is exciting me any longer. Since I learnt to enjoy the brief moments, life has become one continuous flaw of joy and misery. My expectations are less now. My fears faint. And my heart open, vulnerable again. To the breeze and the sun. The rain and the grey.

Let us all take it brief moment by brief moment.

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