I'm running out of creative titles. So today. Nothing. Working on an art project now. It's coming along fairly well. In my opinion. Keith hasn't written again. I don't expect him too. I just wanted to vent anyways. Not feeling heart broken. SEB is at work. Dani is probably dead. Wen is a bitch. M is playing video games. Mike is MIA. And I am sitting here dreaming of tomorrow. Like usual. I'm thinking about moving to Mexico and becoming a hat dancer. I like Margaritas. Men could throw quarters at me while I jig around on a sumbrero. Sounds like a plan. I do need a job. And a tan. I'm dillusional today. Insane. Pretending. Reality is not my friend today. It's nice. To let the mind go. My tooh hurts. I feel like pulling it. Maybe I will. I wish I had some Novacaine. Oh well. Done for now.