In today's society, an individual's success seems increasingly synonymous with 'relevance.' How much attention do you draw to yourself?
How much are people talking about you on social media? How much exposure do you have on Twitter? How many followers on TikTok?
How relevant are you when it comes to receiving attention from the audience and being part of the public discourse?
Hence, this 'relevance' is what many people are after these days; they want their faces to dominate the online space, they want to show the world all facets of their lives, and they seek to be at the center of attention as much as possible.
As a consequence, the world knows about all the great things they do, but also about the bad, and if, for some reason, they do or say something the audience doesn't appreciate, they end up being scrutinized by thousands, if not millions of people.
Some might never recover from something they said or did, whereas if they hadn't been so famous, they wouldn't have been in this position of public disgrace. Again, 'relevance' is today's highly sought-after asset.
Millions of people on social media are grinding, hoping the masses will notice them one day. For many, it's a dream to be famous. It's the ultimate validation.
All the attention and admiration are like cocaine for the ego: addictive and highly pleasurable while it lasts. But what about its opposite?
What if we reject 'relevance,' deny fame, and don't pursue the attention of the masses?
In the 'attention age,' where attention is supposedly our most valuable commodity, remaining invisible and insignificant seems an act of blasphemy.
