THE PRESSURE OF FUNCTIONing

He smiled.

She smiled.

They laughed for a second then stopped abruptly.

They hugged a bit.

Posed for a photo.

Then went their separate ways.

I paid so much attention to them that the guy started feeling uncomfortable because I was just staring at them with so much intensity and focus. After noticing the above mentioned, I shrugged my shoulders and turned my head away thinking maybe I was just being paranoid because I was at a function where I felt like I was the crazy one for choosing comfortability over glamour with the outfit I was wearing. I sat my eyes on this girl with a gold dress with a blue ribbon on it. She was coming out for air but could not catch it fast enough before someone caught up with her. I think she was somehow famous because the paparazzi was all over her in a flash.

She smiled a bit.

Greeted everyone with a light handshake.

Fake laughed over what I suppose was a joke of some sort.

Reached for her pocket like she needed to take a call.

Waved herself away and left

I ended up following her because I was curious to see if I was right or not and it turned out that I was. She ran outside to take air because she did not have a call to answer. She went to sit across the lawn on the east wing of the GICC. A minute later she was on her way again and she did the weirdest thing before she went in. She looked at me, signaled to me letting me know that I shouldn’t mention this anywhere else, put on her fake smile back and disappeared into the crowd. Overwhelmed she looked the entire time. As if the whole world was looking at her and she could not afford to mess it up by just being herself. I imagined what she did when the cameras weren’t on. She probably watched Rick & Morty, with munchies on her couch and in her PJs with no fame to worry about. I felt sorry for her for a second but I could not stay worried about her for too long. I went to the bar to get myself some tonic water just to hydrate with a bit of a punch. I met this woman I had arrived with earlier. She was in a dark blue long dress with what looked to be white heels and a black purse. She was sloshed. In the hour and a half of the entire show she had managed to chunk down 2 cocktails, according to her, and a glass of wine. She felt nervous and alcohol was the only thing keeping her in place. I felt this hard.

“…and you cannot stay the entire time without worrying if the camera is on you or if the girl who tried stealing your man last year still has her eyes on him and wondering if he is also looking at her. Wondering if you’re being noticed or not, that is why I am drinking this,” pointing at her drink as she walked off into the crowd and numerous lights.

The Yarona FM Music Awards brought so much social pressure on so many people. People were more worried about how they looking or if their make-up was being messed up by the fact that their sweat glands cannot compose themselves than the awards themselves. They were so worried about whether their outfit was visible and if everyone saw them and forgot to have fun. Is it weird that I worry less about what people do or say and focus on enjoying myself every time? In fact this weekend I decided on going out in public in a muscle top. It was the first time I did so because I used to live by the code of ‘what would people think or say’. This time though, I lived by the code of making myself happy and living my best and undefined life. I have always been known for not following the system and being rebellious to law and order but now thinking about it, it has always been created by my whole belief of ‘doing it my own way’.

LIVE YOUR BEST LIFE & STOP WORRYING ABOUT THE LESS IMPORTANT THINGS. YOU MATTER. IF NOT TO SOMEONE, AT LEAST MAKE SURE YOU MATTER TO YOURSELF.

3 Comments Add yours

  1. Atang Khunofu says:

    🤞🏼😭I’ve been sleeping on you tbh, this is so clean and epigrammatic 🔥🔥

    Liked by 1 person

    1. blazyroniic says:

      Thanks a whole lot 😊😋I’m glad you like the work.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Bravo! I like how relatable this is 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

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