Famous | antakalipa

Celebrity

In the realm of celebrity, everything is bigger here, the tabs are bigger, holes deeper and the feeling of imposter syndrome realer. You thought money was going to solve everything only to realize it doesn’t solve anything. You worked your whole life chasing a fleeting experience, numbness and cocaine now your daily experience, cause you are alone despite the millions of followers, money stacked high but you have never felt lower. Operating in the realm of celebrity, I always thought being with the stars will enhance my shine, reality is the rot aches like a tooth cavity. The 15 minutes is actually 5, how’s that for brevity? Everyone wants to be famous, everyone wants to be a celebrity. In the realm of celebrity, the stars are just like me, insecure and sensitive not knowing who to be. Expectations and blurred lines hindering who they should be. I will buy that Sportscar, even though it’s not me. Celebrity, celebrity, I thought with my stock high, I’d defy gravity, yes I am floating in the sky in all levity, but I am also empty lacking capacity. In the realm of celebrity, reality is a hoax enhanced by the lights, the friends are actually enemies who are eager for a fight, awaiting for an opportunity to dim out your sight. Celebrity, celebrity, it’s not how it’s advertised. You a slave to the market and money has you hypnotized. Surrounded by celebrities, I thought the feeling would be different but it’s all the same. They should have all the power but they are toothless and tame. Some are struggling to pay rent, living with friends to hide the shame. Some are broken and beat down, maybe it’s the fame. Celebrity, celebrity, got me feeling like Pinocchio, living in a fabricated world and I just want to be a real boy.

Famous

I used to be famous back in the day, you know when Dube was on 2 and Stokvel on Sundays. My claim to fame was to entertain you, to make you happy. I graced magazines covers and walked different stages like a catwalk. Panties would be soaked wet when I appeared on the screen and did what I did best. The spotlight was always on me and I’d leave many starstruck, shinning like light reflected on a diamond. I used to be famous and finessing was easy, I would just show up and I would be lavished with gifts and money streamed like a waterfall into my bank account, there wasn’t anything I couldn’t afford or a girl I couldn’t get to the fort. It was automatic, my presence unlocked all doors and left many knees weak. Mute and in awe like a vegetable that can’t speak. I used to be famous, walking on the street was near impossible. Every time I was sighted, the paparazzi would be on my case, bombarding me with flashes that would send an epileptic into space. I used to be famous, I was loved and appreciated for my skills. I mattered, I used to exist. Now I am a fragment of yesterday’s slide show, a glimmer of a star that used to shine bright, a dinosaur that history has left out of its archives. I walk on the streets and no one wants a picture of me, with me, paparazzi is present, they just fed up with me. Finessing is harder as my efforts are off target, Mercedes Benz repossessed as money is proving hard to get. I used to be famous and everybody knew my name, today everything is relative, we are all the same. Panties dry and left to crack on the washing line, abandoned like a kid in foster care who’s never been mine. The spotlight and lights off me, career dimmed out like 6 o’clock in winter. I used to be famous, I was on Billboards that oversighted highways. Today the trajectory of my career is sideways. No one cares, I am an afterthought and kinda look like somebody who used to be famous for a while. Maybe the glitz and glamor was all in my head, maybe I am worthless after all. I used to be famous, I was special and different. Nowadays, I struggle to pay rent. Cause the people who used to love me are now suffering from voluntary Alzeheimer disease, they choose to forget that I once ruled the set. Or maybe they just don’t care. I used to be famous back in the day.