My Heart, The Punk

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Let me tell you something about hope + nerves: both will cause your heart to free fall through your stomach and out your ass when you're sorting your mail, flip over an envelop, and see the name + address of a place you recently submitted an exhibition proposal to...even when your head knows notifications of acceptance or rejection aren't due to be sent for another 13 days...and even though you know the probability of rejection is high, you still stubbornly hold onto hope because you know you did your best and you believe just the act of showing up matters/is enough...but somehow it isn't until you feel your heart crashing against your rib cage on its way to falling out of your body that you realize just how badly you are hoping/praying/wishing/wanting what you dared to believe you could get if you just tried.

In other words, I nearly fainted outside in our driveway while checking the mail because my heart saw MOAD and thought for .005 seconds this was either a rejection or an acceptance. My heart just gave out like some Ol weak ass, punk ass punk. Because hope and nerves has it shook. 

Do not ask me what I will do once the actual notification shows up on the 31st. If today is any indication, I might need a defibrillator to get through it. 

So what IS in this envelope? Our new membership cards.