In Dreams: Fame

I sit back sometimes and wonder what it would be like if I allow fame to consume me whole. How would my public meltdown be taken by the same people who decided my craft was good enough for mainstream consumption. The rise to the top would be more delicious than staying there; I would be too busy trying to find a way to keep fresh and relevant.  So much so, my sense of trust and self would be gone. Only to be reconstructed by a team of people that need me as much as I need them in order to pay bills on time.  I would succumb to useless pressure. However, I would be famous.

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When a person reaches a certain level of fame, It’s not about them anymore. It’s about maintenance of body housing an identity that is palpable to the general public.  There are celebrities who get married and have children because their public relations team researched that the ‘family image’ will skyrocket their stock to a more viable, lucrative target audience.  I wouldn’t be able to maintain the rules and regulations set out by my team. When I was younger I spent a great deal of time pretending to do and be things I was not. It ruined progressions that I could have been focusing on and left me feeling bitter and alone, yet strangely forced to keep up the lies and pain I created for myself. To project a charade on a larger scale, I would crack.  I would be the kind of celebrity that wouldn’t be known for the work I do, but instead, internet beef with other celebrities and people. I wouldn’t be able to control myself.

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The lifestyle that entails constant notoriety makes it hard for the word NO to be exercised with reassurance.  What non-famous people may consider a wild fantasy, can be a boring reality to a famous person. Controlling vices and habits would be difficult for me, especially if I can get it when I want, how I want. I wouldn’t believe rules were meant for me as long as I had the same lawyer every troublemaker I hung out with had.  I would shine on my ability to do damage control rather than exercise self-control in the first place. Luckily, my current financial situation is the only thing that is keeping me from being a complete waste, functioning in order to survive. If more things in my life other than my cell phone plan were unlimited. Who knows what I would have to apologize for would say because I lacked sense and insight? I don’t have it in me to practice wit on a grand scale.
Besides, once a celebrity gets hold of a trend, it’s already dead. They’re constructs of what interesting people are doing in the background. Think about when an actress wears something from a mid-price store and that piece sells out immediately. It sold out because the actress wore it. Not because someone’s stylish friend; who had the same piece three months prior been spicing up the piece with different outfits. Alas, because a celebrity wore that piece with some jeans and sneakers, that celebrity gets the fashion icon gaze.  Well, she’s late to the party, but, because she’s popular everyone is going to act like it was hers, to begin with.
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The friend might have done it first, but the celebrity will always (copy it) do it best.
As fame climbs, the number of people you need to keep quiet because you stole their idea to make money from it grows. Some of our best musical acts have been accused of forging lesser-known acts.  However, the media clean up is the singer felt “inspired”. So “inspired”, they aped the lesser known person from head to toe. The celebrity has so much pull, that although the audience sees the theft, we don’t pay it much attention as we do the hate we give to the lesser known person for pointing out they have been wronged. For me, I would force everyone I love and adore to sign a series of nondisclosure agreements and contracts. The paranoia of my personal life and ideas being sold to the highest bidder would cause me to live in a state of defensive panic.  I have a difficult time trusting people and their intentions as it is, adding fame to it would only heighten my insecurities as to why people want to help me. Even if intentions are pure and they want to see me win, I wouldn’t be able to accept their good intentions.
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The life you and your marketing team chose to project is scrutinized because of the night show you’re slated to appear on is tough.  Notoriety wears you like “fans” who hate you the most; yet for some reason, their voices are the loudest when it comes to knowing everything about you. Your lively hood is based on advertising dollars; you sell yourself in order to peddle the product that will feed you, your family, and your team. As much as I want to be wealthy, I don’t want to be famous. I already have a hard time dealing with the tiny bit of attention I desperately solicit. If I were to be famous, I would have a meltdown that would ruin my career and any chances of me having one like it again. Yes, there are ways to keep me away from the spotlight like so many other celebrities do to maintain their level of privacy and sense of normalcy. I am just saying I would be too reckless because I have too much fun destroying myself.

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