Friday, April 23, 2010


If you’re living life in any way that’s worthwhile, you’ll never run out of rejection, and you’ll never get used to the sting. You should have it in overflowing volume, by the bucketload. Don’t think it’s not useful stuff, though. Don’t mistake it for garbage. Like good aftershave, it will always sting. The sting is important. Slap it on hard with your open palm to amplify the burn. Drive it through your pores into your blood, like gasoline. Send it screaming through your veins into your heart, and choke back your reflex to scream. Eventually you won’t even wince. You’ll just seethe quietly. All the little nicks will bleed. Then, red-faced and stinging, you’ll be an artist. Every time the gallery says no, every time your work doesn’t sell, every time the woman doesn’t get back to you, every time you don’t get the job, every time you put it all out there and get nothing back, you’re becoming more perfect, leaner and harder, more “fuck you” by the minute.

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