It's funny.
Not 'haha' funny, but a sickening funny, like medicine that's too sweet
That sticks to your tongue and makes you wretch,
When little girls and little boys all chime together:
"I want to be famous!"
I don't remember ever saying that.
At least, I don't remember saying it and meaning it, even when I was little.
They wanted to be
Astronauts and movie stars and models and singers and peformers and-
Why?
Why would you want to be famous?
Famous for doing something well,
Famous for doing something that pleases the crowds, but might not please you,
Famous for being poked and prodded, for having any change scrutinized
For having a life.
Fame.
It seems to deteriorate over time.
It starts with stardom and praise!
A huge fanbase!
And then the ridicule begins.
Fake and stupid, shallow or haughty,
Too fat, too thin, too tall, too short,
Too much medication, not enough, too much drama, not enough
Too big for his britches, too small for the star,
Hogging the spotlight, hiding from the spotlight
Who to kiss and who to miss, break ups, make ups, getting together, getting over it
Living, breathing, trying to be...
Normal.
So no.
I never wanted to be up there with the stars.
To be adored and abhored, followed by adoration and supplication, degradation and humiliation.
I never wanted that.
I never wanted my head to be on the chopping block of fame.