twinge await space end prolonged

Don't things take time? there's so much waiting "involved" they say that's what war is but at least you have the opportunity to kill someone, or two or more than, and/or be so yourself, and those, your opponents, were waiting also, unless there is some asymmetry involved, but in any case everyone had something to do, and "got something out of" the experience, weaponry, trauma, bonds.  ("writers" should at least be given, by the policy-commitee-horde of wealthy graphic and web "designers"who lurk behind all walls tending to their influence machines, hardy headwear, thick and long socks, and one pewter cup)


I merrily experienced a a succession of dreams concerning the /fate: unknown/ of a manuscript sent abroad, I can recall two of the dreams enough to provoke here content:

1/ response in form of full envelope with full maunscript inside, and scribbles.  the scribbles, noteably, began on the envelope itself, roaming all around, circumspecting, the address.  I was offered advice, such as (a) observe the root sounds in the various sections, and have them assume a pertinent sequence, and (b) "malnourished children" is by now a tired image, why not investigate ethiopian child funerary rites and thicken all this somehow

-- I don't have malnourished children in this particular text, and I can't find anything about the rites - innarestingly it seems christian missionary "work" has smothered most trace of original culture, funerary or otherwise - innarestingally, too, recall reading of the stillborn being interred inside trees, special trees perhaps, that have an appropriate space and/or growth mechanism, for the for the, for that kind of thingpractise.  I think it's a good thingpractise. Let's put it into practise.

2/ a response wherein 6 slips were to be found, "response slips" and each had been edited by all the editors, so one slip the response, edited by further 5 "editors", perhaps then further, it was passed around, and edited again, why stop really? and so probably not slips, but like proust's manuscripts, annotated appearance /of the responses, of the respondees, collated to form the most full, over-complete (replete) rejection !

(rejection ! that has not arrived, it takes time, I was feeling "Oh, I don't know what to do" -was feeling despondent, forlorn, and other of those droopy words, sigh, etc -- NOW, probably, speaking within-the-real, the envelope did not reach what we hoped would be "destination" - not so unlikely, I've had bad luck with international post since I first tried it out, ordering "appleseed volume one" (the manga, not the great John Clute novel) from the "sheffield space centre"for example, circa er 1993/4 -- and that wasn't even international post, so post in general, we do not get on

*     *

Let me return.  I have been low on morale.  What I must do, I thought, is fashion an enquiry letter, but I have been lacking the guts.  I thought, I will make an enquiry, I think I mean inquiry, electric letter, on the March 10, as that is "mario day" (MAR10) I thought, on that day, there shall be a bounciness, to give me the gut, raise my morale, make the inquiry shuttle forth like mario leaping in the Z-button far leap of latter-day mario games.

But that date passed and I didn't.

I thought the very next day, being March 11th, being now a sombre day, may well do it.  The sadness of such days can sometimes bypass flaws in the self-brain+guts in an unexpected jouissance , but not this time, it wasn't to be, and if you consult your calender you may see I haven't yet made my move.  It is not there is no hope, but the tangible sink, sunk, and I couldn't think of further useful dates.

*        *

I hadn't much morale to start with.  Easily routed.  Now I have lost touch with, lost grip on, the "submission process" - it's funny, that we say "to submit", to the mighty master publishers - now there are "submission fees" even; the scene extends further into paid-for sex fetish services, and a publication database recently decided it requires "paid subscription" - adult contact listings.  The system lists, it has become: wrong-way-round.

We must invert all glasses of drink, spaghetti dinners, all cake.

*           *

In allways, anycase, there is no total lack of hopes.

Now shall list some reasonable pleasant things related to the situation/un-situation harried/ un-harried, perfectly isolate, as described (somewhat, hardly) in the missive(s) compounded composed, above, comprised of, as I said, un-situation, the non-action, in (un-)response to, my meagre, so frail it's hardly there, attempt, or was it even that, I can no longer say

LIST of some related BOONS:

1/ wait, this is no boon, it's a bad review (!) (or is it only baddish?) of my elderly story text "the cat-dead party" good or bad it is nice to see these things pop up

2/ birkensnake has assumed its rightful place among the wikipedia arena of "entries"  after a previous failed attempt.  maybe the editors (of wikipedia) have become less pernickety, or there was exodus of them (editors) or the time has come, in time there is a settling, all things to their rightful positions.

3/ also the birkensnake is undergoing a fundraising momentum for the collossal 6 (+1(=7)) birkensnake #sixes warping the space-time weave even in my little dreaming I mentioned above (..."a response wherein 6 slips &c ...")

4/ new genre magazine finds its spot on.in among the online sf encyclopedia  I recall reading the tun-of-brix sized printed volume in a library and made several lists of authors/books, after refinding good attitude in sf after reading appleseed by john clute who so happens to be one of if not the main editor/s of said encyclopedia off and on-line, in print and in electric monitor shimmer

& 5/ then if mark scroggins the zukofsky biographer/scholar didn't just recently write a review of said SF text "appleseed" and he did just that so things may assume the pathshapes of circle ("descry") reasonable, well

-- and hence there's solace in some glimpse, half I suppose make-believe, but of forward momentum, halfly or so's






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