'i'll find a way'.

let's see, i have to get to holland v tomorrow with a wet painting in hand. however, i will not be taking a taxi nor will i be driven there by anyone. so, i will have to subject myself to a ride on the bus. which will further lead to the various stares.

i hate those stares they give me. they come in many forms. first, we have those who critic your painting. they stare at the painting as if they're artists themselves, and as if i had made a major error somewhere on the canvas. they'll squint and stare at your painting, frowning at times, as if it's the most disastrous thing they've laid their eyes on.it makes me feel really uncomfortable.

the curious stares are more common. they look at you with an eyebrow raised and then at your painting and back at you. the look in their eyes are, most of the time, still rather passive though. as if questioning if the painting was done by you. well, it hasn't anything to do with them, so i mostly try to ignore them.

then we have the stares that really irritate me. they'll stare at your painting and back at you. and when they turn back to look at you once more, they'll give you a once-over, surveying if you have enough capability to have done it yourself. and when they have deemed you incapable they'll show this by forcing a smile, their eyes still squinted, their eyebrows slightly raised.

it's only then when i really do appreciate the people who sit around, not really bothering about your presence on the bus or anyone around them, in fact. the ones that sit and stare out of the window, the ones that make up little dreams in their heads as they sit around. the same one, however, that constantly fail to offer their seats to those who really need them.

art class, art class, here i come [if i wake up on time].