Well, got an email today from poetry.com saying how great my poetry was and how I'm such a great person, etc etc.

Having grown up in the internet age, my cynicism immediately kicked in and set off a warning alarm in my head. I would post the email, but you can get the gist of what it said pretty easy. Why, you say I'm accepted into your semi-finalist round?! Why, I can get published in the book for a modest fee of 50 dollars?! Would I like to buy this wonderful book full of my poetry!? Of course!

[link]

Yeah. Like every damn thing nowadays, it's a fucking scam. It's a hell of a world we live in where somebody hands you a dollar and you ask yourself "What's he after? What's wrong with it?"

It's a horrible life for an optimist. You put faith in the good and get a your wallet cleared out in return. To be honest, if those publishers clearinghouse people came to my door one morning with a big check for whatever ridiculous sum of money, I'd be hesitant to accept it.

There's no such thing as good luck anymore, just a scam waiting for somebody to bite.
...
Still plenty of bad luck to go around, though.

Why does having a cold suck so bad? I don't think there is anything I hate more than when you wake up with a sore throat and a runny nose, and you just think to yourself: "Fuck. Gonna be one of those days."

You go about your business, your nose getting more raw as you wipe away all the snot and crap, and you eventually get annoyed enough to take some drugs(the drugstore kind... though if heroin or cocaine cured the cold I might have to give it a try) and it still doesn't really do anything besides make you tired and leave a bad taste in your mouth.

So you get through all that, and you try to go to sleep. You try to just lay down, and then realize you can't breath through you're nose. So you prop yourself up in an uncomfortable position and after a lot of repositioning you're able to go to sleep. Then, when you wake up you have all this crusty junk around your nose. Sort of like a postcard from your good friend Mr. Asshole Cold Virus, who has since went on vacation with somebody else you were in contact with yesterday.

I get this picture like you're looking through a microscope at some little bacteria and it's wiggling away with it's semi-circular shape and dots and stuff. 'Cept this germ has little dots and lines that make up this asshole lop-sided smiley face and it's the cold virus. And it's laughing at you, saying in it's little virus language: "Oh man, I really got you. Having fun, douchebag? lololol"

Yeah, cold virus. You got me. You win this round. But one day somebody's gonna make some little pill that kills the hell out of you, and then we'll see who's laughing.

My first real day on Deviant, kinda confused on what the hell a Print and a deviation is. I guess deviation is just how you submit something to your gallery, so I've proceeded to submit a bunch of stuff...

Hoping that isn't a bad idea. Dunno how many readers the DeviantART community houses, and I can't draw worth a damn. Guess it remains to be seen if I can write worth a damn either.

So anyway, in closing, journal, I'll try to update this everyday but I seriously doubt I will. I'm lazy.