Life Behind a Mask
It's always easier for me to explain things in analogs and metaphors. Whether it's because I have a hard time expressing what I say, or just a fear that what I say will be misconstrued, I don't know. And whether people appreciate it or just tolerate it I don't care.
I've wore a mask for some years now. People expect something of me that I can't always give and so one day I found I could wear a mask with a huge smile on it and everyone, at least on the other side of the mask, was happy. As for me, it becomes smothering. I've taken it off a few times, but felt miserably exposed and put it back on when anyone looked at me. Sometimes sweat runs down my neck reminding me that I have it on. Sometimes, tears.
There's been times I've met others with their own masks. Some are smiling ones like mine and we wave in passing as if to say, "Yeah, I know." Some are wearing masks with a blank stare to let people know they are disinterested in whatever comes along, which sounds like a good idea sometimes. I'm not judging them. The worst though, are the sad masks because I can't for the life of me figure what is behind them. It might be a shame they are wearing them.
Lots of people never have to wear masks, which is probably ideal, but I can't take mine off for them. As far as they know, this is my real smile. Especially when I see someone who is what most people would would say is beautiful. When I see someone beautiful I make sure my mask is tight. It's intimidating to me and I can't help it. My fear comes, as most fears do, from the unknown. What's this person like on the inside? The vast majority of the time there's danger or ugliness on the inside. There's no telling unless you get to know them, and that always seems to end badly. And so my mask remains on my face to hide tears squeezed from a volnerable soul. And I go stumbling down a long dark tunnel with no light at the end. I try to see a light, some glimmer of hope, but my maks limits me.
A few days ago I saw a slight glimmer, like a pin hole in the nback of a projection screen. It was kind words. I hear kind words from time to time, but this was different. These words had a sincerity behind them, an unmistakeable integrity that want to hear more. To avoid a long story, in time I discovered the one thing that could make me take the mask from my face - a person of rare beauty inside and out. You see, only people who are beautiful on the inside can be truly beautiful on the outside. Right now I'm wearing my real smile because my friends deserve to see it. And I can breath. And because I can breath I can feel creative again, laugh again, and think so much clearer. I still have my smiley mask in my hand, because I may have to put it back on again, at least on a limited basis. But for right now I am quite content to just work the muscles in my own face.
That's all I had to say. Now I have to go do some demographics on my friends list and see if it's skewed toward blonds. Just an interesting observation by a very beautiful person. Inside and out.
I've wore a mask for some years now. People expect something of me that I can't always give and so one day I found I could wear a mask with a huge smile on it and everyone, at least on the other side of the mask, was happy. As for me, it becomes smothering. I've taken it off a few times, but felt miserably exposed and put it back on when anyone looked at me. Sometimes sweat runs down my neck reminding me that I have it on. Sometimes, tears.
There's been times I've met others with their own masks. Some are smiling ones like mine and we wave in passing as if to say, "Yeah, I know." Some are wearing masks with a blank stare to let people know they are disinterested in whatever comes along, which sounds like a good idea sometimes. I'm not judging them. The worst though, are the sad masks because I can't for the life of me figure what is behind them. It might be a shame they are wearing them.
Lots of people never have to wear masks, which is probably ideal, but I can't take mine off for them. As far as they know, this is my real smile. Especially when I see someone who is what most people would would say is beautiful. When I see someone beautiful I make sure my mask is tight. It's intimidating to me and I can't help it. My fear comes, as most fears do, from the unknown. What's this person like on the inside? The vast majority of the time there's danger or ugliness on the inside. There's no telling unless you get to know them, and that always seems to end badly. And so my mask remains on my face to hide tears squeezed from a volnerable soul. And I go stumbling down a long dark tunnel with no light at the end. I try to see a light, some glimmer of hope, but my maks limits me.
A few days ago I saw a slight glimmer, like a pin hole in the nback of a projection screen. It was kind words. I hear kind words from time to time, but this was different. These words had a sincerity behind them, an unmistakeable integrity that want to hear more. To avoid a long story, in time I discovered the one thing that could make me take the mask from my face - a person of rare beauty inside and out. You see, only people who are beautiful on the inside can be truly beautiful on the outside. Right now I'm wearing my real smile because my friends deserve to see it. And I can breath. And because I can breath I can feel creative again, laugh again, and think so much clearer. I still have my smiley mask in my hand, because I may have to put it back on again, at least on a limited basis. But for right now I am quite content to just work the muscles in my own face.
That's all I had to say. Now I have to go do some demographics on my friends list and see if it's skewed toward blonds. Just an interesting observation by a very beautiful person. Inside and out.
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=~)