I don’t know what to say. That wasn’t Rumi and it wasn’t Sir. Should I go and delete my tweet? I was raving about their chunky yumminess. Carried along by the frenzy. Hmm.
Jay and Bey are good at that, aren’t they? Feeding us a certain narrative, shaping it this way and that. And like the helpless, hungry masses we go right along with it, eating every morsel. I was just beginning to like Beyonce again to tell truth. I was a fan from the beginning, DC3 was one of my first faves back in the day. Somehow Beyonce lost me and of course we found one another over a tall glass of lemonade. I guess my thing is, who is the real Beyonce? And when am I talking to Sasha Fierce?
I understand the need for privacy. And a part of me gets that, in the words of the Biebs, “…you think you know me, you never will.”
The delusion of celebrity makes us think we have a right to the Carters, to the Wests. We don’t.
The delusion of celebrity is that the Carters and the Wests need us just as much. Without the fans, there would be no On The Run tour sequels, no trips to Wyoming and definitely no Keeping Up with anybody. Looks like we need each other, man.
light & love.