“To live happy, live hidden” Jean-Pierre Claris de Florian (1788)
The other day I came across a lightly clad young woman. She was wearing a light tank top showing her arms and her midriff, and a pair of sweatpants showcasing her booty.
She looked good, but it was a cold blustery day and her outfit seemed oddly inadequate for the prevailing weather conditions.
I remember thinking, even if my physique was up to par, would I risk pneumonia for the sake of vanity?
But it seems that people who have got it (it being anything desirable) cannot resist the urge of flaunting it, regardless of the circumstances.
Look at me they implore… Look at my butt… look at my boobs… look at my shoes, muscles, gold chains… look at my car… look at me for crying out loud… I beg you.
And the social media are chockfull of selfie queens promoting their wares
It is rather pathetic.
I wonder, if I had it (I am not saying that I don’t), would I flaunt it.
Nah… I don’t think so… It is not in my nature.
I treasure anonymity too much to risk attracting undue attention. I enjoy the immense privilege of going anywhere unnoticed and I intend to keep it that way.
For there is always a price to pay for being the center of attention.
Someday you will have to pay the piper.
Once fame is achieved, it can become as poisonous as the Shirt of Nessus
The once highly prized celebrity status can become toxic and lead to many nasty confrontations with the very same people who catapulted them to fame.
When caught in an unfavorable light, many celebrities claim an invasion of privacy.
But when you become a public figure, you relinquish the cloak of anonymity.
Fame is like a Trojan horse hauled into the walls of your privacy. It is often the prelude of a rapid downfall.
Beware of what you are asking for, you might get it.
And fate is playing for keeps.
As for me, if you see me anywhere wearing dark shades, don’t even ask. I don’t sign autographs or give interviews!
Alain