It's interesting how everyone seems to want their "day in the sun." I mean, thinking realistically, the sun isn't that friendly. It burns us, gives us cancer or it scars our skin to a deeper shade that everyone seems to want. Little do we realize that tanning thins our skin, makes us more susceptible to cancer and of course, reduces softness and firmness, not to mention longevity.
The sun takes its toll on us. We get all red and wrinkly. Or, as some would like to put it, in order to make their stupidity more justifiable, "distinguished." Right. Since when did leathery, wrinkled, freckled, pock-marked, tumor-ridden epidermus become "distinguished?" In all honesty you become less distinguished. In fact, being distinguished in my view had something to do with doing good and achieving success through generally intelligent means. Somehow I don't think ruining your skin's health fits into that category.
Skin cancer aside, the idea that everyone has of "a day in the sun" is generally not so literal. Unless you're stupid. Which, if you are, I apologize. But, if you are stupid and are still reading this, struggling and grappling with every other word I commend you. "A day in the sun" generally refers to someone being in the "limelight" or getting their share of fame and praise for something they did. But why do we want so much to bask in the limelight? Why do we want to be lauded and applauded by our peers? Well, to be blunt, we are all narcissists. To a point. Don't deny it, you know it's true. The ones who are denying it now are only lying to themselves.
We all have this ingrained, inborn, innate need to be loved and admired. We measure our worth by what others think of us, from our hair and wardrobe to our speaking ability or wit. While you might think that other people make really good judgments and assessments about you, and you generally take constructive criticism well, if you allow other people to determine the course of your life and the level of your happiness you're going to probably end up one of two things. First, insane. Second, unhappy. Since it requires that one must be sane to have feelings of happiness or sadness, they are mutually exclusive. However, there is not a clear divide between sane and insane.
On that note I am going to make a blanket statement. People are generally insane. That means that at one moment or another, given the right (or wrong) circumstances any normal, self-respecting ideologue will flip his lid. For other terms see: bonkers, go mental, go off the deep end, lose one's marbles, one rachet less than the full set, etc. But, why are so many people ridiculously obsessed with how the world perceives them to the point that they lose their sanity or become melancholy and depressed?
It's our nature. But it can be beat. What it calls for is a resurgence of cold, callous, insensitivity. We need to be able to let stuff roll off our backs. We need to have thick enough skin so that when the poachers shoot at us on the Serengeti to get our ivory tusks, we can whip our tail at the bullet, turn around and trample 'em. We need to be able to laugh at angry hippos and crocodiles that want to dash us to pieces and store us on the river bottom. They can't. We are humans. We can eat them. The moral is more clearly delineated as follows: Don't get mad, get even. If the world turns its back on you. Turn your back on the world. When you get an 'F' on your report card, drop a little brown flaming bag on the teacher's doorstep. If they call you four eyes, tell them they have webbed feet. And then, to cap it off pour your school milk carton on their face, point, and laugh.
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