Actually

Going as a hipster for National Cosplay Day would work quite well.
"What are you supposed to be?"
"You've probably never heard of it"

But the truth is, I just found out the real National Cosplay Day is in May or whatever so....

I'm rising up in the ranks of LegendLeague, attaining Silver 2 on Saturday and Silver 1 today. Maybe I can get gold by season's end. Maybe. Maybe not. Or maybe it's something completely different like an axe or a...well if you don't know where this line of thinking ends up perhaps you are better off that way. Just like you would be better off if I didn't show you this picture:

and the lord did provide ample...manservice...

I guess I'll dedicate the rest of this post to detailing a dream I had.

Now, in my dream, I am the star. It's me. And the big man- uh let me start over.
I don't remember all of it, but the segment I can remember starts with me trying to get to sleep (in my dream) in my old childhood bedroom. But it was broad daylight, and there was a constant buzz-like tone giving me a headache. Barely-audible whispers began to accompany the harsh noise, increasing in volume as time went on.

The setting shifted. I was visualizing a tribal storyteller narrating a legend, like in a movie or show.
"and then, a great evil overtook the land" he said.
At that, a swarm of dark clouds filled up the sky. In the center of it all cloud lines cris-crossed to form a vaguely swastika like shape. Yet as the sky darkened, holes appeared at random in the carpet of clouds. "to cover it up, the townspeople continually fired cannons into the sky so the sunlight could reach." And so the existence of the great evil was kept a secret.

The setting shifted.

I was in New York City with my family, except there were giant brightly colored playground sets interspersed with the high rise buildings. An excited Hispanic looking little boy with dark hair took hold of a wooden handlebar attached to a large hot air balloon. The balloon began to rise, lifting the boy into the air, and people around me started to scream "no, get him off, he'll die!" and such things. I felt like I should go and try to pry the boy off the bar before the balloon went too high. But I just stood and watched with suppressed mirth, thinking "Yes! Go up and die you stupid kid! Gyahahahaha!"

My perspective changed. I was in the sky, looking at the balloon and the boy who was now far above the city. He swung lightly, shaking the balloon a bit. Suddenly, the boy's strength gave out and he let go of the bar, falling to the earth below. "Now, you shall pay the price for your ignorance!" I thought as he screamed. But at second glance, he was actually going to land in water. He splashed down in the bay south of the city, and was picked up by a yellow life raft shaped like a rubber ducky.

The whole experience was vague and unsatisfying, but I think that's because it's a metaphor for my life, or the boy is a metaphor for my life. Or the playground represents an old childhood trauma filtered out by my Freudian subconscious to protect me from pedophilia.