Red Hot Mutha'

so I was saving up for a tattoo of Saraswati. But I bought the Brum pedal Car instead.

His birthday is coming up.

Sometimes my mood goes black for no apparent reason. People ask me: What's wrong? and I know they think I'm crazy because I can never really answer them. It's not one specific thing, really. Besides, no one would really get it anyway. I guess it's sort of the sum of things going on: I feel like nothing. Sometimes, the only thing that keeps me from cutting and running is Vince. I feel so isolated; and yet I can't really open up to anyone. I think that people who tend to gloss over or make light of these moods have never really felt quite like this. Without sounding totally nuts (too late!) it's like something sorta clicks in every fiber of your being. If it's a chemical thing, then this would make some sort of sense. Perhaps my meds have finally reached the stage where they just aren't working anymore. It could be the time of year, the fact that I try to teach art in a filthy little trailer where no one really listens to me anyway and I feel like throwing in the towel. I'm not an artist; I've never shown or sold anything and my LACK OF ATTENTION TO DETAIL is probably to blame. At my heart there is a restless unfulfillment and frankly, the hippie counselor has made me realize it all the more and made me feel even more like nothing. Then the day ends, and I get into bed and do it all over again.
Hey, gotta run, my fifth grade is here and I gotta go be PERKY!