I often find myself zoned out in the shower; I come up with elusive stories or recall random info from my daily Twitter scroll while my conditioner soaks in my hair. I come up with movie ideas, take part in interviews as if I’m famous, write poems, and spin webs of how everything in my universe is connected. Eventually, I come to and realize my fingers are pruning, so I turn to rinse my hair.
I have a deep fascination with pop culture and fictional worlds. Typically, I feel alone in this fascination. “No way others are dedicating this much brain space to their favorite movies, shows, songs, and actors,” I remind myself almost daily. But is this belief of mine true?
Most, if not all people, daydream to get through the day. It is almost a form of adaptation humans have built to survive the sometimes monotonous world we’ve created. But who’s to say what it is that others dream about? It could be what they might do when they get home, an exciting event a few months away, meeting their favorite celebrity, or something completely different. What I do know, however, is that most humans have an inextricable tie to media in the twenty-first century, and whether we like it or not, phones and our perpetual access to it, are literally in our pockets. This means that there is a pretty slim chance that I am the only one who uses pop culture as an escape route in my daily life.
We see it a lot in the public sphere now, that word: parasocial relationships. Each time you scroll through your Instagram feed and a post from Zendaya is sandwiched between a girl you went to high school with and your younger brother, it feels like you are connected, as if through some web you really know each other, maybe even on a metaphysical level. But when does this behavior get taken so far that it requires calling out?
Towards the end of the summer, Taylor Swift was attending her friend's wedding in New Jersey. When fans caught wind of this, they flocked to the venue, getting hoisted up to peer through windows in hopes of catching a glimpse of the star. This kind of behavior is an example of an unhealthy relationship, with a stranger, mind you. Though it is fun to indulge in fictionalized versions of these people, it isn’t okay to invade their personal space. Usually, I just stick to the daydreams.
Post-shower, I set my phone down on my nightstand and shuffle into a comfortable position. As I close my eyes, trying to go to sleep before my 9 a.m. the next morning, my mind is awake. Deep in my neural pathways, I am on set rehearsing lines with my co-star, getting a quick nap in my trailer, and chugging coffee in between takes with my parka on. I go on like this until my daydreams drift into dreams.
This is how I get through my days, and it brings me great joy. My mind is my greatest weapon, so I feel no need to sit outside the most popular New York restaurants to run into someone famous. Instead, I could be inside the restaurant and part of the inner circle, without the hefty price of a plane ticket.
I don’t like to indulge in the concept of “guilty pleasures,” because you should feel like you’re able to express your enjoyment of something, no matter how silly you feel it may be. I bet you, a million times over, someone in the apartment right next to you or on the opposite end of the bus or one of your best friends is doing it too.
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