I really feel like writing right now. In all of my art education, it has been stressed that we must carefully plan our paintings. We must know what we are going to do before we do it. And you know what- it feels awesome to rebel against that. I came home today and I painted. Aimlessly. I let my hands (I decided to use only my left actually) do whatever they (it) wanted. I didn't worry about line, composition, and all that jazz. I just painted. I found myself putting more emotion into it. I wasn't worrying about 'does this look realistic? is the focal point okay? warm/cool? ahh!'. I could just enjoy art. In the meantime, I'll please all the art people by following the painting guidelines- but on my own, i'm going to do my own style. The results are crazy, but they calm me. Last night I went to fill up the van. I open the door, I grab my debit, I lock the door, I step out to the gas pump, and I close the door. Missing step: The keys. Locked in. I freaked. I would of easily remained calm if I was the only person affected but I knew that I would have to call my dad and I knew that he was going to freak. Which he did. He accused me of being on drugs, and you know- I got the whole 'don't expect to take the car out anymore.' So as I'm waiting for a spare key to arrive from my amazingly helpful friend Katie, I was abandoned at the gas station. My nerves were at an all time high, and the gas station employee wasn't helping. He was the creepiest dude ever. He kept getting real close to me, with his missing fron tooth, and then randomly said, 'You know women can fake an orgasm, but a man can fake an entire relationship.' Then he told me how he has a 'women clicker' and he pushes it when he wants. '..If i want a beer, I click the FETCH ME ANOTHER button. It works wonders.' I laughed at the moment, unaware of the psychological trauma it would cause me. I'm now absolutely terrified of men, and I'm pretty certain that I will never get married. All because I locked my keys in the car. I had this dream where I had to go in front of a government panel and decide how I wanted to die. The options: natural causes, assisted death, or I could die in a really cool way. I didn't want to decide in my dream. I ran away from the panel and they chased me. It was a crazy dream. I'm glad the way of our death is an uncertain thing. I'm glad that I never know the exact time or way or anything like that. It would be a terrible thing. I hate thinking about death at all, yet my dreams love it. I always dream about issues with death. It's weird. I really hope the near future is good to me. I hope I have a good weekend. I hope I smile alot. Are these weird things to hope for? Should I not hope, and rather create them? Do we make our own happiness? To me, I think it should come naturally.