To Whom the World Revolves Around

(Disclaimer:  The following blog is not about you…unless it’s about you, but it’s mainly about me.  Of course, it’s probably about you, too, but only if everything is about you, which it is, or is it? And yes, I’m blatantly aware that my title ends with a preposition.  Sue me, but not really.  I have no $$.)

On behalf of the world, I would like to thank you for giving our planet something so sweet and perfect to orbit.  I would also like to confirm that you are completely correct in your assumption that everything is about you, and, once again, I thank you for providing substance to each and every life on the face of the planet.  You have affected us all immensely.

On a more personal level, it is true that I am completely enamored with and enraptured by the heavenly entity that is you, oh precious center of everything comprehensible.  Everything that I do essentially revolves around you. Every thought is about you, every action is for you, this blog is about you, and last, but certainly not least, every Facebook status is written solely for you.  I am so obsessed with you that my bodily functions withhold themselves until I can consciously reason that, based on you, these functions are appropriate.  In short, my poops (if I pooped) revolve around you, too.

You might wonder why the world revolves around you. How did everything in existence come to be about you?  How does everyone know you?  How can everyone care so much about you?  A-ha!  It must be your ubiquitousness.  You have somehow managed to thrust your god-like presence onto everyone on the planet in such a way that you cannot be ignored.  It seems to be a tall order, but you have accomplished it, so let’s take a moment for the world population to give you a celebratory pat on the back. 

(Please, just for a moment, stop patting yourself on the back to make enough room for us to squeeze in.   Thank you.)

Each and every one of us appreciates all the unsolicited advice that we can get.  In truth, while it’s often taboo to be so abrupt and honest, we’re all too stupid to make our own decisions.  We need someone to advise us in every aspect of life.  Yep, we  need someone to tell us what to feel, how to act, what to wear, what hobbies to have, what decor to use for fancy soirees, what religious beliefs to hold, whom to vote for, what practices to practice, etc..  So, thank you for all the excellent jewels of knowledge that you have bestowed upon your lesser pupils.

While it’s clear that we all love and admire you, it’s also clear that we despise and hate you.  While we say nice things to your face, and we do everything that we do just for you, it’s only right that we all stab you in the back.  You see, all the whispers and glances correlate to your insecurities and fears, your ultra long toes and your strangely pointed nose. We gossip about your personal life because we have no personal lives of our own, and we spread lies to tarnish your perfect reputation in our feeble attempt to boost our own (lack of) morale. To put you at ease, it’s not Tinnitus that’s making your ears ring.  We’re all just talking about you.  This mindless chatter is to lessen the pains of our mundane lives that would be utterly meaningless without the sweet, sweet center of our vast universe.   Thank you for providing purpose for our otherwise useless existences. Thank you for your time, but remember, we’re all on your time.

Love,

Michele

P.S.  Can a postscript be a question?  I guess it can be. 

P.S.S. How can some people really think that they’re so important that everything someone says or does directly relates to them?  Is anyone that important?

If you find that in any place above, the word “you” applies directly to you, take your massive ego outside and have a nice day.

Advertisement