Friggin' Divas...

Divas... Oh how I hate to harbor the disdain I have for you... but I harbor it anyways, and I can't help it.

Because... Lying to yourself about your self-worth is downright damnable. These divas and their shameless cognitive dissonance... at once, so self obsessed that they notice all of their flaws and have become conscious enough of them to get all wobbly-headed and finger-shaking whenever anyone such as seems to notice one of them, yet so over-the-top about how awesome they are that they, and the legions like them who have fallen in love with the makeup that these two syllables (Di-Va) provide, actually say stuff like, "I'm a Diva"... even when they can't sing. How many of you know what a diva really is. 'A diva is a celebrated female singer. The Italian term is used to describe a woman of rare, outstanding talent in the world of opera. ' Forget the real meaning, most of you chicks aren't even cool... and, your proclamation of divahood makes you much worse. The self obsession that points out your flaws and makes you self-conscious is the same general self-centered-ness that engenders these hollow diva claims. Choose one, self-conscious or conceited. All the nonsense has me dizzy as a Salvadore Dali painting. You're a diva huh? DESPITE YOURSELF...

But (and we all know that all great arguments are like good women in that they have massive, uningnorable but(t)s) perhaps this is not such a bad thing... at least not at first glance. It is when you give that diva a chance to tell you about themselves that the good evaporates.

In our transient world... where so many people we come in contact with, we never see again, makeup motivates people to improve themselves. The makeup that we all wear, man and woman alike, be it the stuff we put on our faces to hide blemishes, the clothes we wear that 'compliment' our figure, the way we have taught ourselves to walk or shake hands to exude confidence, or how we have altered our speaking voice to make ourselves more attractive/professional, serves as an advertisement for our understanding of perfection. When I see someone's bright red LV shoes that I like, I might go out and get some just like it. When I see someone's abs (I think this is when I'm supposed to say 'no homo'), I might hit the gym harder so I can get mine like that. Negative things can have the same effect. Seeing the fat dude coming out of mcdonald's could send me to the gym just as quick as an underarmour commercial (no homo again?). But... there is definitely a difference between the subtlety of wearing, speaking, or walking in a way that we think is attractive and the brash act of announcing one's diva (or "the man") status from the hilltops.

I suggest that we all be fly in silence... (ellipsis)