Everywhere I go, I can't help but watch people in their every day movements. I sit on a bus and stare at the person diagonally opposite, tracing the outline of their features, imagining where they come from, where they're going and sometimes even contemplating how I would fix their hair or makeup if I had the chance. I sit in a cafe and survey the rush of mothers and screaming toddlers, students, workers and old couples as they go about their daily routine. I sit on the beach and have a discussion with myself about the old leather-skinned lady bulging out of her bikini and the beautiful toned guy jogging along the shore line. My brain is a constant whirr of thought and judgement. And this carries over to reality T.V. This time, you get even more of an insight. This time you actually hear them speak, you learn about their characters, and you can shamelessly stare at them all you want because they're behind the screen of your television set. I sound like a stalker. But actually, everyone does it: Facebook, Twitter, T.V, nightclubs, gyms, supermarkets, clothes stores. We are always surveying the 'competition', always admiring or laughing at other people's lives.
This is why I watch TOWIE and MIC among others. I get involved with their lives. I laugh when they laugh, I get a lump in my throat when they cry, I feel a ball of frustration build up inside of me when they get angry. I sometimes even go as far as to imagine the advice I would give them if I was with them in that particular situation, because frankly, some of the stuff they come out with is utter bollocks. Reality T.V is slowly taking over my life.
Don't get me wrong - I have a very social active life. I am very in-tune with reality and I do not have a psychological problem. But on the regular occasion that my life throws a challenge my way that I do not enjoy (e.g. writing essays, presentations, reading Thomas Hardy, getting up at 7:30am, figuring out how to pay for my next food shop) I find solace in the knowledge that I can disappear into the shallow world of glamour, money and fame for 46 mins of my otherwise fairly boring and stressful day. In that moment, I'd rather be prancing round Chelsea with a pair of Wayfarers balancing on my head and a deep chocolate brown Bayswater casually hanging off my arm. It makes me wonder - why are they lucky enough to spend their days filming in posh apartments with their friends, sipping cocktails off their vintage coffee tables and getting paid to look pretty, while I'm stuck in my room picking dried candle-wax off my desk, trying desperately to find an ounce of motivation to finish my English degree? I'd give anything to not have to read endless critical essays, to not have to get up at ridiculous hours to attend a lecture that is more boring than listening to Alistair Darling preach about budgets, to not have to drink half a bottle of wine just to fall asleep because my brain won't stop thinking about the next looming deadline. Basically I need to stop comparing my own situation to the "celebrity" lifestyle that the likes of Caggie Dunlop and Mark Wright appear to lead. It's making me bitter.
My problem is that I'm lazy. Well, it's partly laziness and partly just lack of self-belief. If I don't try really hard, I won't be as disappointed if I fail, because ultimately I'll deserve whatever I get. I tend to shy away from aiming high at anything important if I think there's a chance I might fall. Which, combined with my ponchance for sleeping, researching hot countries and watching films on my laptop, doesn't create the model hard-working English student. Add the fact that I don't have a clue what career I want to aim for and it results in an un-motivated, slightly scared but altogether nonchalant Esther. Even my parents have accepted the fact that all I want to do in life is travel - they told me to marry someone rich.
The moral of this story is unclear, but what I have worked out is that I need to have more faith in myself. I need to figure out what I'm passionate about and what I'm going to do with my life. I'd be happy giving up the Wayfarers and the Bayswater as long as I love what I do because ultimately, there is something very depressing about the concept of living a life that you're not in love with.
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