I am sick of myself.
Rather, I am sick of thinking about myself. I’m sick of seeing myself on social media, sick of reading about all of my brilliant musings (which, of course, I am posting myself, so people will ‘like’ them and assure me of my brilliance).
I’m sick of taking photos on my phone and posting them, so the world can see which pair of cute shoes I’m wearing today, And, I’m sick of knowing what I’m up to every minute, sick of my PERSONAL BRAND.
Yeah, yeah, I know I have to do it. But, I don’t have to like it.
I am slowly but surely morphing into Narcissus. We all are. You know Narcissus. He was that Greek guy who fell in love with his own reflection after seeing himself in a pool of water.
But, I don’t need a pool of water to look at myself. Or a mirror, for that matter. Because, I am everywhere.
My face stares back at me from my website, my blog, my Facebook page, my Instagram account, my You Tube Channel, my LinkedIn profile, my Twitter account, and any number of other places where I or my friends and associates have shared my information. (Just so you won’t feel left out, I’ve provided links to absolutely everything, so you can bask in my fabulosity, too. You’re welcome.)
Yes, I am everywhere. But, am I really? Does any of this excessive public navel-gazing actually represent me? Maybe. Sometimes. Yes. And, no.
You get to show the world exactly what you want the world to see. It’s a way to control your life and everyone else’s perception of who you are and what you stand for. For a control freak like me, that’s pretty cool.
It can also be a load of B.S. When you’re manipulating everything everyone sees about you, reality is, well, not real.