Seven years after its release, I finally spent the $35 and got Brandon Boyd's book, White Fluffy Clouds. I remember wanting it badly when I was so into Incubus back in the day. (They are still my happy place.)

It came in the mail today and took me about 20 minutes to look through. It makes me wish that I were creative in some conventional or unconventional way. My mind is so boring and immature compared to his. Granted, he's into crazy shit like outer space and other worlds. Not only is he super creative and into crazy shit, but he has the skills and talents to be able to create something out of it. I have none of these things. So all I can do is (poorly) write a blog entry about other people's creativity. At least I can appreciate it.

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