In the Arts. The cult of celebrity. The celebrity gig is gilded, yet we all have to write out our qualifications to prove our value for the great wondrous market, whatever that is. To have some kind of oomph behind our name so people will want to buy our stuff. So people will buy us. "In a comparative analysis, it was proven that you are the best, hence most deserving of food/water/love/housing/electricity/and transportation costs." I'm not a commodity but I play one on the internet! It's getting weird.
And what's real? Holding hands, that feels. Singing a song, that feels. Sharing a gift is exhausting if everyone isn't each sharing a gift. We have to share more so we don't all get tired. Maybe, dear heart, instead of putting love out there and hearing the walloping empty clang of indifference, we should just encourage the sharing of gifts one person at a time. Let's do this together. Your you is completely unique- you must speak. You must paint, we must invent, build, tear down, dream, love, film, sing, laugh, kiss, nap, wink, snuggle, breathe- for us, yeah, for us all.
[By the way, while we were eating lunch our garden was bought out and now we have to pay to pick the tomatoes we planted. And apparently we still have to do the weeding.]