(no subject)

Why can't I ever just have a dream where I can fly? Why does my brain have to build an explanation around it? Like, me (and my mom, wut?) being shot into orbit with two/three other astronauts, and now we're in 0-G, but I can't really enjoy it because I'm too worried about the hundred million kinds of violent, instantaneous death that could befall me at any moment. And we won't even go into my other dreams last night. AWESOME WORK, BRAIN. The next two days are going to involve seeing old friends and going cool places, and this is the thanks I get? Pfft.

Anyway, also, ( SOMETIMES I. GET. BORED. And I make things that become huge pictures. )