Friday, August 31, 2012

On the Wrong End of the Lens

Last night I expressed an insane wish that I wouldn't mind being the target of the paparazzi. Of course all the sane people around the table started to dissuade me, telling me of all the annoyances and trouble that I would be getting into if my wish were to come true. As if I don't know that.

Actually all I want is to be photographed. That's how narcissistic I am.

I bought a camera, not realising that that puts me on the wrong end of the lens. I don't want to take photographs. I'm actually lousy at that. I cannot even camwhore.

I need a photographer, not a camera. That would be great incentive for me to be well groomed at all times and to keep in shape - cannot permanently tuck in my stomach.

Too bad I don't have one. The photographer, I mean. Not the stomach, of which I already have too much.

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