Behind the Facade
I wanted to be friends with celebrities. I believe that there is enough content to me that I could be a real friend to them. Does it matter? Not really. I mean, it’s not going to happen. However, I wanted it to. Not because of the fame that would drip onto me from them (kinda) but rather because of what I see in them from afar. The facade.
It’s a heavy thing to be a celebrity. You always have to be guarded. And, not everyone loves celebrities. What can you do when people hate you for no reason? About the same thing you can do in normal life. Ignore them and try not to let their hateful words harm your heart.
If friends were loyal and were yours before fame found you attractive enough to enfold, you cling to them and are wary about the new friends, the ones that sprung up like daisies in the rain of your fame shower. At arm’s length, that is the distance all newfound people remain…except for the select few that manage to get past the guards and are proven loyal despite the fame.
Name droppers are everywhere.
So, no celebrities are my friends…my real friends…though I stalk a few on Twitter and have a few added here on MySpace. It is because of who they present themselves to be that I add them, not just to have numbers or just to have their names upon my page. No. It is because I genuinely would like to meet them. Though I realize the facade and I realize the truth…it is nice to see them.
And what did my True Love tell me yesterday? “I love you even though you’re not famous.”
And so does Pastor and Margaret, my mom and brother, Mary and Cathy B and Cathy D and Eliza and Juliana and Antonia and Eileen and Ellen…and many, many others. So, I no longer want fame to drip on me nor do I want to seek out the famous in the hopes that they will like me. One day, maybe, a normal person turned celebrity will find me worth talking to but if that never happens, I am loved by the Creator of the universe. Who could ask for anything more?
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