57/365
Would you like to be famous? In what way?
Andy Warhol said a lot about fame when he was famous. How do we know what it is if we have never felt it? I often think about my own frustration with others and how those qualities sit within myself. Tabloids are a waste of ink and I’m not the only one who’s said it. The word ‘entertainment’ gives me nightmares. In dreams, I let all the weird stuff happen. Maybe if I am famous I could let all the weird stuff happen too. Pink elephants serving cocktails, and speed reading super powers. I don’t want to feel guinness record fame. Longest hiccups or spiciest soup. I want long walks on the beach like the rest of us. If everyone has fifteen minutes, will there be a beach, or do I need to climb the uncharted waters of Alaska to find myself again?
