Uncool and irrelevant.
Friday, 03.16.2018 - 9:51 pm.

I should be relieved because this week I finished collecting data for one of my studies. Not quite. I think I made a wrong calculation and it looks like I'll need more people. Plus, I started looking at the data and it sucks. I've got nothing. My whole PhD is nothing but non-findings. But it's the weekend so I'll worry about it thoroughly on Monday. 

Last Sunday I submitted my manuscript to a small publishing house. I wouldn't say it's small though, I noticed they have the "David Bowie Is" book, which is when I gave in in my nonchalance and started begging to the heavens that please accept my manuscript. I'll give them a month and if by then they haven't replied, I'll try somewhere else. I'm somewhat hopeful, but not that much; I know I shouldn't be because if I am rejection will hurt more. I think I'm a good writer, but maybe I'm not. 

I also never heard back from the literary magazine in my university, to which I submitted two very short stories. I guess that's a no. 

ALSO, my Simeon comic strip remains unnoticed. Come on, it looks good now! It's colorful and, dare I say, sufficiently funny. It's so frustrating. I must have like five readers, most likely all of them know me in person already and one of them is my dad, which just irks me (every fucking weekend, when we talk on Skype, he feels the need to tell me he reads my stuff and ask where I find the time to write. I just want to scream at him to leave me alone and stop following me on social media). I don't attract people. Holy fuck, my mind is so unattractive.

I'm so uncool and irrelevant. And I keep whining about this, which I know only makes everything worse, but I'm so hurt and angry at having my writing ignored and...undiscovered? I have a huge ego, and granted, I may have more ego than talent, but still, I think it's unfair that all my posts sink in the depths of the internet without more than one or two reactions (if I'm lucky).

Bright side: I'm feeling ragingly bisexual today; I'm on my "horny motherfucker" period. It could be because I've been reading a few (unintentionally) hot things about Bowie lately. It could be because today I saw the Colombian guy in my PhD program, which led me to fantasize about the Colombian girl idem, whom I haven't seen in ages and with whom I'll probably never cross paths again. Then I also fantasized about another woman I met recently and with whom I went for coffee today, though in a group setting. Andrew is quite an ally (or, as he calls himself, "just a decent human being") regarding my sexuality, but I'm not sure how he'd feel if he knew about me crushing on other people for real.  

Speaking of Andrew, he and I are going to London to the Harry Potter studios or whatever this Sunday. I read the books, they didn't do much for me in the long run so I'm just tagging along; a very expensive tag-along, but it's quality time with him. A more exciting event coming up for us is a Jarvis Cocker gig at a village in the Peak District in a few weeks. Now that should be fun. 

I'll go read or something. 

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