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Demi Lovato and the A R T of Stars’ Documentaries

On one recent weekend or in the past few days, which are seemingly moving like unnamable wind rapids and less like structured cycles fit to keep momentum,

I watched Demi Lovato’s documentary, “Simply Complicated.”

I have been a fan of this talented, hardworking woman since she stepped on the Disney Channel scene and I have not gone back since. Her musical instrument was a relief to my ear. She had a raw sound. Like most. But, idk, I felt the scratch, the ick, the hurt of the throat…into the nose…and waaaaaailed through the mouth.

I wanted to wail like her.

So I did. Anywhere I could find space. In my house when no one was home, in the bathroom when my aunt banished me from belting in the living room, in the subway station when the B train would whisk by and, of course, in the chapel of the catholic all-girls school I attended for 13 years. Her voiced helped me. Her lyrics simple, but the most daring I had heard in all my childhood consummeristic media.

She had a smile on her face with abandonment in her heart. I can relate.

In this documentary, she brought me back. To her voice. To her music. To her hurt. This compilation of Demi’s life from birth till now brought me closer to her. She was honest with me    in my room    on my laptop. She wanted to share with me why I may have related to her music or how she may have lied to me in her lyrics.

It is funny how I can know more about Demi’s inner thoughts than my own family’s. Or how she can make me feel as if I am tracking her all throughout her life with her own family. OR how her family may not even known who she was till this was released. or until she broke…and had to lay all her hearts on the table.

I’d like to think she’s my friend.

I’d like to think these E! true Hollywood Stories or the Gaga Documentary or the Katy Perry documentary (which was my favorite movie of 2010), are honest with me.

But what are they trying to say to me? A broken hearted girl has a broken hearted friend? Making art for fame is hard sometimes? Sharing your innate talent with the WORLD comes with a price? The person you thought you knew is indeed not she, but someone else?

These people need an exposé on their life because they have a following, a herd which flash their pictures and scroll through their feeds, but what about the questions to the people I already know and hold close? Where are their questions? I want enough time in the day to seek out .uhhh not answers, but E    X     P       A           N             S    I O NS.

Simply Unpacking.

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