The Latest ↓ Updates on Mondays.

A good thing I had braces.

My apartment doesn’t have a washer or dryer, or even the hookups. So naturally, I kept a key to my old apartment complex. Twice a month, for a good three years, I ran their treadmills while I did my laundry. If you listen to your headphones loud enough, people know better not ask you what floor you live on.

Anyhow, they finally changed the locks on me. But now I’ve got a girlfriend kind enough to let me wash my clothes at her place. What’s funny is, mile after mile on that treadmill, for three years, she was always the one I was thinking about. I would daydream the impossible event of her falling for me. In reality, she hardly knew I existed. And now, I drive to her apartment, and she lets me up to do my laundry.

This is my new standard. Art Director Linds Redding published these words in an article on his blog last March, and died of cancer the following October. The article is called A Short Lesson in Perspective and is one of the rawest pieces of writing I’ve ever read.

I’ve gotten out of bed In the middle of night to remove art I just published, out of fear of upsetting people by morning. Fuck that.

If I truly believe in what I’m doing, and I do, then I shouldn’t ever feel sorry for the things I do here. I can offer no apologies. Close your eyes if you have to. This is my new standard. We’ll see if I have enough spine to honor it.

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