Believe in your selfie…πŸ˜‰

Yes you should. I have seen many a post of people admitting that they clicked ‘like’ for their own selfies, which I thought was funny…I mean there is a ‘like’ button so why not use it…occasionally?!?😳 Very rarely I have seen the ‘love’ ❀️ button used…I guess that must be for only one-off, show-stopping moments of ‘self-love’!😍 Deciding to be up front about the idea of ‘liking oneself’…regardless of how narcissist it may look is sometimes taken out of context. Especially by those who exercise over-zealous self-censorship as a direct response to the many instances of idiotic displays of self aggrandisement that many social media users of all ilks are prone to. After all…we are in the age of self promotion.. I think in some of these types of posts you can tell whether or not it is playful interaction by the poster, or just some misguided person thinking that by bombarding their viewers with poses of themselves, over and over, in all sorts of mundane life situations,  is that interesting or arresting!πŸ™„

But my point is that the temptation to record yourself, even on a daily basis, can be seen as just a ‘private’ past-time, like diary/journal entries and sometimes, when it’s funny enough or engaging…you can roll it out to your collection of friends. Having said that, I notice how many folks post to the entire internet, (ie the globe sign) and I ask myself, why does one put oneself out there in the Internet wilderness?😣 I mean, it is indeed a ravishing shot of you, but getting ‘likes’ and ‘loves’ and compliments from your friends or people on your wall should be enough ego stroking no?! Further…. let’s face it, ‘friends’ in social media language, is a misunderstood concept, for these folks you ‘socialise’ with are by and large, mainly ‘acquaintances’ …not your friend!!😬

So for me, it is those folks who are crossing friend borders into ‘looking-for-friends’, so to speak. Sometimes it is obviously a business, information-based or activist plug. I get that. But many times it is not. It is that person perhaps seeking attention…or trying to send word out to some ex-lover, husband/wife who treated them bad, or friend or boss or relative whom they may have some unresolved issue(s) with, and who is obviously not on their ‘friend list’. And that to me, is what the Internet facilitates well too, ie apart from the ‘good things’…sigh. Many consider ‘instant’ biased news or videos of cute animals, good, adding meaning to life. We all ‘self-promote’, some have  axes to grind. In that sense I can see how ‘selfies’ have become weapons of mass destruction and disruption!?!πŸ˜«πŸ˜–πŸ™ƒ But that’s par for the course. I still like indulging now and again. The good thing is that I do them less, mainly because I do not have a flair for doing ‘good selfies’ so the mostly rubbish ones I churn out ..go straight to the bin! And because I know the wise saying…that beauty does fade, not that I had a lot to fade, but what little I did possess is indeed fading….I decided to use my wit instead. At least I try to…because I do like the line I heard from a recent television series I am a big fan off…called Versailles..yes, all about the French monarch, Louis XIV… I think?πŸ€” Anyway, the line goes…”beauty without wit is merely vanity”…said from one lady to another, in the Palace setting, as they faced each other off, over procuring the King’s favour….I think that’s a good line to live by, don’t you?

Les derniers jours…

The window was always open. The curtain parted in the middle just a fraction to let the air and light through. This was always so, winter or summer, a little light and air was always needed. It was a functional room. No great flourishes of design. A bed that looked as if it belonged in a hospital ward, a small wicker drawer set, a little table that stored a collection of medicines that for the most part, looked like a mini pharmacy with all manner of pills and prescriptions. A jug, with metric measurements, to ensure the right amount of water was administered on a daily basis. Plastic medicine cups, tissues and other paraphernalia that announced in no uncertain way, someone here was frail and weakened and in need of constant care.

The ambiance of the room was not sad, or happy. It was like a room in an airport. Meaning it could momentarily come alive if something was happening. Like people coming in. Although for the most part, voices remained subdued so as to not upset the uneasy balance of rest and relaxation, when it was clear that the β€˜rest’ was actually a physical decline. A departure. Just as you would have in an airport. Once the voices left, the room, with its sole occupant, returned to a somber silence.

It was a place to rest and sleep whilst waiting to die. There was one major distraction. A television that was on for most of the day and well into the night. The excited voices coming from the screen, clapping, talking, laughing, singing, or telling you how to do this or that. This constant humdrum of staged activities from decorating your home, to planning your retirement, or getting married were played out all day to its sole captive audience. Even if you did not look at it or showed interest, it went on with its stories of this and that. The TV was also there as a prop. Some visitors coming into the room, ill at ease with the certainty of death, that our social wiring helps us to avoid, seemed grateful for the distraction of the chattering television. It became the third ‘guest’ in the room. It was, for some, a much needed distraction. And like a perfect dinner party guest, it had a huge repertoire of conversation pieces. You saw how smart people solved complex crimes, or you could witness the most breathless human feats, shown in neat little hourly segments. In a room that had so little life, the TV was the proverbial elephant in the room….full of ‘life’ and live enhancing truisms.

Thankfully, there were other more spontaneous moments of human life in the room. The unabashed interjections of childish gaiety. But these were rare. The little grands, fond of the ailing occupant, not schooled in the art of restriction, would bring their unrehearsed exclamations of joy or laughter. They would act as if their presence in the life of the occupant, would carry on as normal as ever. She was just experiencing some β€˜down time’. Just as they would be in bed, if they caught a cold, or flu. This was all going to pass and they would have the occupant, their great Grandmother back in full bloom as the days before Christmas rolled out. Their excitement was the sheer joy of anticipation. Christmas-and-gifts rolled into one big shiny, glittery festivity of twinkly lights, sweets and school holidays……but weeks before the 25th December, she gave in and died on the 26th November 2014. Alone in her room with her constant companion, the television.