First and foremost, thank you for listening. It is said that listening is a lost art and that definitely holds some truth. I feel it is because we never thank people for doing so. Taking the time that you could spend doing anything else and using it to help someone help themselves is as genuine an act as any. One that deserves thanks.

Now that I’ve buttered you up I want to leave you with something: I want to tell you that you don’t matter.

You. Don’t. Matter.

So stop trying to.

Social media reigns supreme. This is our world now. I’m not trying to be the old guy out of touch with reality sitting on his porch complaining about millennials and talking about the good ‘ol days. In fact I think it’s a great thing. Being able to connect with anyone, anywhere, at any time is an incredible feat and we are all fortunate to be living in a moment where that is possible. But somewhere along the way, social media transitioned from a tool into a stage. We now live day in and day out no longer displaying who we are, but who we think the world wants us to be. The likes, the comments, the followers; they feel good, but why? Why is there a natural gratification attached to them? Why has virtual popularity transformed into a direct interpretation of worth? We attempt the impossible task of taking everything we have to offer, all the good we want to share with the world, and whittle it down into a meager handful of pictures and videos to represent us. In a reach for this satisfaction, we have given power to complete strangers on the internet. Strangers that now have the ability to alter our thoughts, our happiness, and how we interpret our own value.

We go out on the weekends not to have fun, but to make sure everyone not in attendance knows how much fun they could be having. Restaurants and nightlife fill with flashlights in case everyone on the other end of the phone forgot what a steak looks like or how crowded a club can get. We no longer live in the moment. We have traded in the here and now and miss the current tick while we stare into a camera so other people can live it for us. We now dwell in the archives stored up in the Museum of Moments I Should Have Lived In. We see our favorite celebrities portraying the lives we dream of and collecting the likes and views that would make us feel whole. Then we lie to ourselves saying we don’t care about that superficial substance only to turn around and mimic their ways while continuing to document every waking moment.

Stop trying to be them.
You’re not them.
And you shouldn’t want to be.

You should want to be you. And if the world can’t take notice and rally behind a authentic you, then they don’t deserve you in the first place.

But putting on an exhibition isn’t the answer. Turning your weekends into a show and tell will accomplish nothing. We signed up and auditioned for a starring role in our own movies and in these films we are the perfect lead with no flaws, no problems, and no doubt.

We spend so much time portraying our lives as perfect to those around us that now when we do hit a speed bump we feel we have to take it on alone, lest we admit that the film we constantly show is not a documentary, but rather a work of fiction.

The truth is that only a rare few of us will ever have the opportunity to create a social brand that transcends race, gender, and generation. Yet we still venture to put up a facade to those we know in order to attract the attention of those we don’t. All this work just to win life’s popularity contest. Save your effort. They don’t deserve it. Use that energy instead to impact the lives around you and the people close to you. Stop letting the yearn for the acceptance of strangers surpass the attention of those within an arm’s reach. I’m guilty too, and the last thing I ever want to be is the fun police. But when you upload your next photo that will demand every double-tap, or video that will shut down the internet, check and be absolutely sure that it is actually you and not a portrayal. If it is, then carry on. But if it isn’t, then I ask who are you performing for? The only displays worth sharing are those shared for an audience of one.

So yes, in the grand scheme of things, and to those who you will never meet and never impress:

You don’t matter.

Maybe you never will.

But maybe that’s okay.

*take a bow

*exit stage left

*draw curtains

[applause]