take your finger off of it

I'm already disgusted with what I said earlier. I guess that's another weird, hateful thing about art... you can look back at it. Not that writing a little something something on a blog no one knows about is ART but it's document, another breed entirely.

I am dying my hair on Saturday for an obscene amount of money. A ridiculous amount of money! I just wanna see how it turns out. I shouldn't have it light again, dark seems to be the shade for me. Although, I could just do something light because even a blond sounds dark right now. I'm a really indecisive person, which makes me a complete pushover.






I am SUCH a pushover that my friends have told me "you are a fucking pushover"
I'm in fact so willing to give up thinking for myself, I really give it away. I can't decide where I want to eat, where I wanna go [so I end up going to people's grandma's birthday parties], if I should go over or not, what the fuck we're gonna do! I would give anything for the words to fall right out instead of getting an anxiety attack over "cheese or hummus?!"










I can tell sometimes my Sofie tries not to state her opinion out loud first anymore because she knows it would sway my thought. I can't help it! It's not because I wanna look dope, I just care deeply about few and I know if Sofia and I are disagreeing it's because I am missing a point of view. there's something i DON'T know about and I'd like to be told.
which is all great. EXCEPT... I sorta use it as a crutch also. again, just a loophole in having to make decisions.





I have to get back to the world. Enough living inside of my head. I'm so afraid of dying but I haven't moved in years. I don't know what the fuck I am doing! I work really hard at a weird job and go to school for god knows what. I forgot already. Oh that's right... ENGLISH SENLSNG. I am going to be miserable for the rest of my fucking life! haha, yeahhhh I would like to read for a living. or maybe read to you? read to your kids? read to myself.


but yeah, back to the world. I have to dedicate a day where I'll just roll a joint and lie in the grass, smell flowers, get dirt under my nails, walk around my neighborhood, try to walk my dog without a leech, take the ol' red cruser bike out for a spin :D










I can't brew life in my head, it rushes out of my pores almost automatically.

nosebleed cental

So I have terrible blood sugar [non existant, nearly] and I am anemic to the core. Nosebleeds have become my best friend and it's irony mainly because I never take the high road.





A couple of days ago I thought about art, what it must feel like to be an artist. It reminds me of getting bitten by a snake and sucking the blood out with your mouth, then spitting it out. To be able to extract poisons, sorta speak. but then there are those of us who don't have a way of getting the poison out, so it pumps through my veins and has become my sustenance. WTF, how can I be living off my poison? I have no idea but I am. I could be the explanation as to why I am so crass and careless with even people I care about the most.


The strange this is I know I am performance artist. HA, it feels so weird to actually say that out loud. I am so envious of the courage that artists have, to draw or sing or write. I guess thats why I've penned myself Selina LION lately... [cowardly]. What is an actress to do? Have monologues in the car where I make myself cry and pretend to have different accents [I am currently obsessed with a Shreveport accent and subtle difference between Louisianna and general southern accents]? I already do! Someone be in a performance art group with me and make this all go away.










My mission is not to be ashamed anymore.