I had an ephiphany recently. Before I go on, I realized that you will actually have many epiphanies if your mind is “right.” (and your soul)
I realized that famous people fight for money because they’re afraid they’ll be broke. What the hell did you do when you weren’t rich or no one knew who you were? What happens when your house is on fire? Does your bank account call the fire station for you? Most of all, why is it okay for you to act like you have no sense because you’re a little more fortunate that someone else? And yet, you demand respect.
Clearly, it is a mental thing. If a child who was born too early can walk, talk and find joy in the little things…why can’t a 35 year old woman who is self absorbed and covered in plastic surgery find happiness?
There is a Buddhist saying (*similar) “If you have to write it down, it is no longer important.” Except…this blog is actually questioning something, so let’s not go there!
Anyone who self glorifies AND puts people down…has some serious self esteem issues. I realized that all the current celebrities, who I REFUSE TO NAME…are just like anyone else (duh) but the thing that came to me was…that these women are making money of off their insecurities…as someone else with insecurities throws money at them. So you’re basically telling them there’s no point in being self confident…get tons of surgery done, wear tons of make up…and if someone say something, trash talk them!
What happened to being intelligent? Lady like? Sweet? Caring? Kind? What happened to trying to make yourself happy, despite what you have to go through? It’s almost as if you don’t think it matters, but it does. I refuse to respect anyone who’s altered their body, then talks about people who they feel are beneath them. I also refuse to respect those following them, condoning this behavior. If your daughter acted like that TO YOU…you’d be upset. But you think it’s cute when she “puts a girl in a her place.”
These women aren’t women. They’re beasts. I grew up in a household were I got talked about until I snapped. Then suddenly all these excuses came flowing out, and all I wanted was to be respected. I began to see that people who were tearing others apart were not happy with themselves. While others apologized and tried to be better…the main person who should have never said anything cruel to me kept going until I realized she had been given over. Meaning-her mind is gone. Her life is a cycle. Never ending mental hell.
One of my goals is to NEVER do that to my daughter because I have a choice not to say anything. Even if something disgusts you, keep it to yourself. This world supports people who don’t like racism, but we say nothing to things going on in our home.
I can’t even say “I can’t believe how immature people are.” I looked up the definition of famous. I hope you like it. It means: “to be known for nothing important.”
Why do you want to be famous? Why not influential? Or accomplished? Fame doesn’t always bring money, and money never brings happiness. I wanted to be known for my artwork and books…and became famous because I’m beautiful. After that, everyone I talked to thought what I do for work is cool, but always took time to tell me that I was a good person.
That is the best thing to be. A good person. Why be beautiful? Famous? Rich?
But to be a good person. And to have people tell you that you are. On top of everything I already do and have accomplished, hearing people tell me…who’s been through hell. Me…who almost lost a child. Me…who’s been through so much. Me…who’s almost died three times…I’m a good person. That’s what I shaped out to be at the age of 31. Rich. Check. Successful. Check. Accomplished. Check.
A good person? I realize now what you should actually strive for. This blog isn’t about me being a good person. This blog is asking a question.
What really matters?