Buying the Poet's Market to check into getting my manuscript published, or trodden on, whichever be the case. Or some other case. Haven't been being very poety in the past few months, but it wears like a badge and causes an inner glow that turns on when you're in that poety mood, which I am now. Not that I plan on writing anything. I mostly want to get checked out by publishers before I go anywhere with the poetry, as I don't have reliable poety friends for feedback. Poety: word.
Otherwise I've been playing a lot of League of Legends, and have recently obtained and turned down a job due to anxieties and delusions and hallucinations, oh my. If I were a videogame character my armor would be named those things, and I wouldn't be able to defeat monsters. At all. I would cry on them, or batter them with some flail made of straw wrappers and gummy-pennies. The latter needs to be created, if not already.
I have a decent set of acquaintance-like friends and if we watched football there would be butt-patting, but pretty much there's no depth to any of it, and when I try to initiate it it is turned down. So be it. I may have moved into that stage of mandom that with it comes no possible alley or backway into getting your feelings heard; instead there is only quiet rage and tongue biting. Americans have an amazing knack at seeing what your visual persona should be like on the inside and then cramming you into that hole. It comes from the TV. When talking about your friends or acquaintances one usually gives them credit for not being this kind of TV bandito, but it looks a lot like people do it anyway, whatever title they wear, and we're just supposed to deal with it. I hope I'm not a mad-sounder, and am instead a resigned-sounder, but take it as you will. Reading about it is sure to inspire one of these things.