I believe that we are all celebrities. The more popular and adored celebrities who appear in our TV and movie screens are just those who managed to earn boatloads of money from acting much better than us (and of course who are given incomparable beauty and sex appeal. Talent, as always, is optional.) As for us lowly creatures who are not exactly in the bigger, blinding spotlight, we still have to overcome random judgments and first impressions in our daily lives. We are not that much different from them.
We just have it much easier, I guess.
I feel that society, or the self-righteous majority, is that one big, shameless paparazzo we all try to avoid as much as we can. It’s because every little thing we do and say can never escape past his condescending and scrutinizing lens. What we do and don’t do may not grace the covers of magazines, but they are still juicy stories for some people.
Give me passion.
Give me suffering.
Give me undivided attention.
Give me filth.
Give me indifference.
Flash. Flash. Flash.
That “nobody is perfect” aphorism is full of crap. People saying it, or almost believing it doesn’t exactly mean that they ARE NOT expecting you to be one. Of course, they do. They just won’t tell you.
If one person who is perceived to be all innocent, God-fearing and naive suddenly gets caught canoodling her best friend in the backseat of a car, I’m sure she would never be the same person again. Because people would never forget.
It doesn’t matter if she’s done it just once or if she actually whores around pretty much all her life. The fact that she misled people is what’s gonna destroy her. But could you really blame her? When people expect you to be someone almost godlike, it doesn’t mean that you can be godlike. It just means that you have to learn to calculate your actions more carefully to not make them think otherwise.
Isn’t it sad?
Fame doesn’t come easy. We have proved this from those celebrities who have fallen into deep shit. One day, you’re worshipping them and putting them on gold-rimmed pedestals. The next day, you puke at the mere mention of their name.
Give me delusion.
God, I’m reading too many Palahniuk books.
But it’s true. Fame doesn’t stop with glitz and glamour. There’s also gutter, guile, grievance and gonorrhea to get over with.
A wise man once said that all our lives are connected. We always experience this when meeting this person who’s actually involved with your ex-best friend, who once gave your professor a friendly slap in the butt, who OD-ed last year, who actually gave some random bartender syphilis. What a small world! Indeed, it is.
We are connected because we also mirror each other’s lives. Remember when you heard about this popular actress whose botox didn’t go well so she decided to lock herself up in her room for the rest of her life? Well, it’s the same thing as your neighbor who was in a car accident had his legs amputated, so he had his windows shut all the time because he couldn’t take anymore how his friends look at him now.
It’s all the same drama, the same struggle, the same “God, why did you leave me?” bit. What these TV and movie gods had different was the whole world gives a damn.
For you ordinary mortal, when you fall flat in your face or you shout to the world that you’re rich and married and gay, it’s not exactly frontpage story material (unlike Kris Aquino’s STD) but in the minds of those who are meant to judge your actions every waking day, it is.
We judge these celebrity robots who are always told what to do but there are certain aspects in our lives when we are also mere followers to people who have the power over us. We also cry for sympathy and laugh for appreciation. We also follow a script, written by those who really do care about us or who are out to kick our asses. We also hold on to a fanbase and ignore detractors, who ironically are more adamant to talk about us more than we could ever do for ourselves.
The film is rolling, the lights are in place. We are on in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1…