For the past few months I've had a little niggling thought. Just a little tiny question that keeps flinging around my head like a demented (albeit, sort of peaceful) frisbee. I've been watching The Kardashians and wondering why we - modern society - are so totally grossly guilty-pleasurely obsessed with celebrity.
Why, do I sometimes prance around the house wearing a (fake) solitaire ring on my fourth finger, making grotesque poses in the mirror, pretending that the paps have (well shit) surrounded me and are currently frothing at the mouth at the prospect of being the first to share my fabulous taste in carbon allotropes (that is totally wrong and I have now offended all the scientists/jewellers who read my blog. Apologies to the masses), with the world?
So, why? Why do I do this?
Don't worry. Don't get up. I've got it. That's why I've stayed back at work to nut this epiphany out.
(Ya welcome).
Well. It is a hell of a lot of fun ladies. Gents! By all means, give it a whirl too. I'm all about equal rights.
On a more serious note, I think we all just want to be popular.
Twitter, Tumblr, Facebook, blogging - it's all about gaining fans, friends and followers. That unique, euphoric, soaring plethora of emotion that can only be fully experienced in a public place whilst checking your social media notifications and fighting the urge to jump up and down yelling 'THEY WANT TO BE MY FRIEND! SUCK IT, EVERYONE ELSE!'. We don't care who they are. Sometimes, we don't even care what they think.
All that we care about, is that Someone out there thinks that we are special. That we are smart and terrific and witty. And that they will somehow, magically, alert many more Someones to your genius, until the Chief of all Someones - which everyone knows is Elijah Wood - discovers your brillance, flies that God-awful 20 hour flight from the US to Australia, to fling open your front door and make you his bride.
Fin.
