Running out the door again. This was my last twenty four hours. Started with the GaGa. Ended with a reflection. Lots and lots of movement in between. I’m on auto pilot. Down on sleep, up on meeting some remarkable people at the Future of Storytelling Conference. Just ate in my room. Batteries are charging. Have to get up in just a few hours. Feeling that sloggy feel. Someone asked me where I was from today and I had to think to remember. A few more days and it will be time to pull the rip cord. It’s what this city does. In a good way.
“Cities where fame is the goal have a specific feel”
I am in a place like this as I read this… except no one wants to admit it. The concept of “face” is a strong one here. “Oh, we’re much too busy, important and modest.” But really, it’s the next step on a social foundation rammed indelibly into place. We were bred for this.
As a consequence, my walks rarely cover any ground of consequence; i’m mostly reluctant to get into the thick of things. Too much of everyone.
The pictures at the top and tail of this post make me want to get out there again though. Drugs I tell you. One needs drugs to face with this kind of thing on a regular, mundane level!
Hollywood and New York. Fame zones. The single most powerful social influence in the world. Get famous. Be like the famous. Act like the famous. That means burn more energy. Bigger house, faster car, more travel, more stuff. We are officially down the rabbit hole.
“We are officially down the rabbit hole.”
I think finally, most of us who have stopped to think about it, are finally waking up to the significance of this insanity we’ve created.
It’s not the most pleasant of awakenings though!