That’s right. I built me a car, and drove myself back to my house. Actually, that’s a lie. I built a robot to drive the car I built, and then had THAT drive me back to my house. Sorry if I misled you, there.

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A lot has happened in the last month, and I’ve abstained from posting because I didn’t want to hurt my schooling. But now that schooling is over, I can do whatever I want. And that means you get the entire month of June, plus a bit of early July, in one giant post. And yeah, you will have to read on to actually read more.

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It’s official: I didn’t get in. So much for a nice way to try and get published, or to have fun over the summer. I feel unqualified as a writer and as a creative person in general.

At least I had one day of feeling great. Right? That’s all I need for three years.

EDIT: No, you know what? I’m not going to let it get me down. I have the utmost respect towards the people who got in: Those are the truly great writers. But what does that say about me? It does not say that I am inadequate, and I’m foolhardy to think that it means such an absurd prospect. There is no reason why I should be mustered by rejection. If rejection makes me foul, then I will end up a foul being for eternity.

If anything, all I must do is work harder, write more, and continue my creative endeavors. And keep having fun. A lot of it.