Dreaming Of Fame
About ninety percent of the people I have met in my life would give anything to be famous.
They would love the riches and the attention i suppose. To be the center of everything, to be a role model. To have your every move watched by the public eye, judgmental. Or maybe its just the idea that they would excel at one particular thing with incredible talent?
To be honest, I have no idea what appeals to them so much. With all the riches in the world, everything could be perfect. You could have the ability to buy anything you needed at anytime. Own the fanciest of houses, sleep in the fanciest of hotels, go to the fanciest of places. Everything would go perfectly. You could sleep in the finest sleepwear, bed sheets of silk, in a huge house. Or you could be at a non-stop party with glamorous people from all over the world, with no need for sleep.
Now, I see how this can sound great. But to me? It sounds boring. I would prefer a road trip with my friends over a plane to Bermuda any day. A road trip filled with mistakes and adventure. Running out of money, sleeping in the car and pawning the few items we have. Ending up in a rundown old town with nothing to do but pretend to shop in the local stores and get kicked out for making a mess and disturbing other customers.
As for the house? I would by far prefer a tiny little one-bedroom apartment shared with my best friend. One where we have no appliances and the fridge is empty except for diet coke and some left over pizza. Above a busy road so we can hardly sleep and the neighbors are always noisy, partying. Where we work two jobs just to afford the rent and spend any extra on clothes that we can get a deal on.
Maybe its just me. I like things with their quirks. Imperfections are what makes things fun. I'd rather listen to someone tell me about how they hitchhiked across Canada then how someone traveled to LA and met Zac Efron at the Teen Choice Awards. Things are more interesting with more character.