Sunday, 14 April 2013
I'm always intrigued by those who need a constant audience, the bigger the better, and whose every waking moment seems devoted to keeping themselves in the public eye. They'll wear the most outrageous clothes, tell the most appalling stories, divulge the most shocking habits, simply to keep other people watching. I really couldn't be more different.
It seems to me that courting attention is hazardous. I wouldn't mind all the praise and appreciation, but it would come with a side order of abuse and hostility that wouldn't be so pleasant. I find it hard enough to deal with abuse from one person; mass abuse from all and sundry would have me weeping in the bathroom.
Of course some attention-seeking is just a cry for help. The flamboyant, extrovert, loud-mouthed windbag who seems totally self-confident might secretly be chronically insecure and desperate for love and reassurance. Who can tell?
No, if you went to a big party I happened to be attending, you might never notice me at all. I'd be the shy, nondescript guy in the corner, possibly having an intense conversation with some equally shy, nondescript person, or possibly just nursing my drink and scrutinising the other guests. Far from seeking attention, I might be so unobtrusive that you'd leave two hours later without having even registered my existence. Which is just how I like it.