This is a video describing the materials what I use for final drafting Cope Syndrome.
Black Warrior Review rejected me again. Time for contests. Also rain.
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This is a video describing the materials what I use for final drafting Cope Syndrome.
Black Warrior Review rejected me again. Time for contests. Also rain.
And it's so late! I had meetingmeetingmeetingeaterrandWASHHAIRHOORAYscreeningemails and now.
speaks of couch, I am taking a psych class. So far there's been a lot of talk on the history of psychology and the politics of psychology and minorities in psychology and poor us women, I take offense. I expect we'll get to the actual psychology at some point.
I've had a writer's block. I always realize it 2-3 days in and get out of it 1-2 days after that. So you can see that I don't know what to say. I hate winter. I just want to get out of this. I just need to post a thing because it's a Tuesday.
I'm trying to write greeting cards for submission. I actually bought a hair blow dryer. God, when does this end?
I do think that Black Warrior Review is finally going tp publish me this time, though. They've never taken this long with a submission.
Okay I'mma drink lots of water and lots of water and write out of this block. Three rules to writing: quantity, quality, and quantity. You may quote ME on that.
My housemate bought a house sponge with a handle what's filled with soap. It's all see-through and you can see the suds in it. and if you push the button on it soaps come out in the sponge and you can lather-lather.
I made origamis today. I sat in a lecture hall for near four hours. It was BORING. My head is still recovering.
I got a fresh magazine in my mail. It details the history of men's fashion. I like the magazines. They are glossy and have lettering. I can't wait to make things for magazines. Shadow puppets stole memory. I was making my hand talk and I forgot what it was supposed to be talking at the keyboard. I haven't got much new to say. I only know that boys leap in slow motion.
I think I'm still breathing out of that ugly building I was in all day. Archaic extreme. Room 176 right next to Room 130 or 50 or whatever. Didn't they know of chronology back then? Can't you re-number those dang labels? Was the architect ill or something? Why is everything in that building puke-colored?
Maybe that's what's about art schools so nice. As normally, "maybe that's what makes art schools seem so nice." They had all the real architects. Also they're probably newer. Adapting to the real world or some odd thing. Today I got to wear a T-shirt with nautical imagery on it. I love the family of blue. It blends into green and into purple well. Red is my favorite color but shades of red don't fit together very well. Other things of no interest to you.
It's because I haven't journaled as much lately, that's why I'm boring you with details that frankly don't belong to you. I'd better change the subject quick. I dreamt a male version of me and then that day my friend gave me an original drawing of that male of myself, said it was her intention that it's the male me, like. Both the dream and the real picture boy had like something in his mouth. Oh, the fate. I'm sorry of the boring. Only it's been a travelling busy week and I must post loyal on Tuesdays. Make paper animals, that is all.