“The square root of I is I.”
– Vladimir Nabokov, Bend Sinister
I was walking down the familiar street, during the familiar hour, to the familiar coffee shop. I was treading on the clouds of my overly-optimistic daydreams. Aspiring to be that one particular young poet with the adoring following whom I found on the internet.
Oh, wouldn’t it be cool?
Awaiting for my coffee, I glance over at a beautiful girl in oversized sweats and golden hair. To me, she is ordinarily sipping on coffee and displaying above-average prettiness. But to the baristas, she is exuding all the shine from all the stars, rendering them star-struck. They take multiple photos, featuring toothy smiles.
The girl with the golden hair steps on my foot. She apologizes. “No worries”, I say and attempt to crawl out of the frame. Something about accidentally being eternally frozen in a stranger’s photo makes me uneasy.
I ask the barista later, “Who was the girl you took pictures with, is she famous?”
“Yea, she is super famous!”, she tells me, quivering. “Do you have Instagram?”
It turns out, it was this young woman; Alexis Ren.
Still not knowing who she is, I thank the barista and say, “It’s cool that you got to meet her!”
“Yes, I know, I can’t believe it, I am still shaking!”
Sometimes the universe makes me giggle by the way it slaps my ego with its humour. Even if I switched lives and had 13 million followers, I would still be a nobody to somebody. And my ego would still desire more and more.
So, who am I to myself (my soul)? For it’s the only “who” that seems to matter.
Don’t you think?
Have you ever met a famous person?