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I am really, really frustrated.
I miss out on workshops, don't know squat about calls for submission of stories (the chances of my stuff actually getting published is another issue altogether), and I can't find the time to write. I go home tired and sleepy, and the last thing my brain needs is for me to kick it somemore after a whole day's work.
I told a friend a few months back that excepting those who're really good (and I obviously am not 'really good'), the only people who can afford to write are rich people. While they lie around and stare at the sky and jot down ideas and lines all day, the rest of us are busy trying to make a living.
Life is so bloody unfair.


Dean said…
Tim! Like you, I'm busy trying to make a living but somehow manage to eke out some words from time to time. You can do it! And when you do, send it to me. Remember that I've sounded a call for submissions for the 2nd volume of Philippine Speculative Fiction :)

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One last thing before I hit the sack.

I realize I haven't been posting as much as I want to (ha, Captain Obvious), settling for the occasional photo.

Still, I just want to give out a big thank You to the Guy Upstairs, for blessings and what I pray to be good things to come.


Serendra, on a hot, Saturday afternoon: