Don't walk. (In Santa Ana) (rant)

I grew up and still live in Santa Ana. In THAT neighborhood.
For some reason I insist on walking alone, even at night on streets where bad things happen to people.

I every now and then, I start to feel pretty "bad" myself.
The gangs seem to bother only their own kind. They're shooting, but not at me.

Then once in awhile I encounter some one with worse mental issues than mine.

Today was one of THOSE days...

For now, once again, I have to say nothing. You never know when you'll end up in court.

The good news is that I 'm almost done painting my cave, where I can hide!
Sorry no pictures. I don't really plan on taking any more personal pictures of my home.

Especially since homeless people, like the schizo who followed me home tonight, have cell phones with internet, too.


And my favorite TV show the Voice is back! So
I'll have something to do while hiding under my rock.

I didn't sleep much yesterday since I stayed up painting my walls.
The grayish-purple reminds me of the walls in the background of the blog page!

I got up early, which doesn't happen and took pictures of a bunch of new spring flowers.

This lemon is only 2 feet high, but look at all the blossoms!

Maybe if I had slept better I wouldn't have answered back to the troll and said "the reason I stare at him is because he stole the student's bike"

I didn't have much time to draw at work.
The powers that be had decided that from now on, ALL events can ONLY be accessed or booked by COMPUTERS. Oh no! The panic!

All of the data input I now had to do for them left me with little time to draw.
I kind of traced my hand on a 15 minute break.