Don't Have a Heart Attack or Anything

Lots of stuff stirring in my mind. Maybe I question myself too much about my motives.

When I was talking to my husband about making silly Vine videos, I said that I want to make people laugh.

He said, innocently, “No, you want attention.”

I was all like—what? No! I mean, yes, I like it if people like my videos, just like I like it if people like my writing, but it’s not just for attention.

“If it was just for attention, I could just take out my tits!”

Yes, I said that. I know—hilarious.

The only attention I’d get for going topless now would be a police officer giving me a ticket for indecent exposure.

Bah, dum, dum…crash!


His comment got me a bit riled up. I mean, as a performer or writer, yes, of course, we want people to pay attention. And there’s nothing wrong with that.

But why do I judge myself then? Or why do I allow other people who don’t like, or get, what I do to bother me?

And what is my overall mission with art?

There I go again! Wanting to know my every motivation.

Can it just be enough to know that I want to perform and write?

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