Facade.

In college, I am a joker, a retard, a smiler, a laugher, given that I am surrounded by the people I enjoy.  At home, I am a musician, a poet, a writer, given that I am alone.

You see, I have masks. Several of them. I can put one and act the part perfectly and make my audience believe that I am who the mask appears to be. Sometimes, it is a lie. Not most of the time. It is easy to make them believe I am happy.

These masks allow me to hide my true face. Because underneath lies what nobody really wants to see. Or even bothers to see. And I’m not even sure how to describe what lies underneath. But oh God, how I just wish to show this eclipse-like face of mine that so very little beautiful souls have seen. And that face will say things that will truly mean something. It will tell stories of childhood, love and pain. And when it smiles, it will show a genuine smile. And if it cries, although it rarely every does, it will shed genuine tears.

“Why do you wear these masks”, you may ask. Well, its simple. To hide, to deceive and to avoid. It has occurred to me at a young age that people only see want they want to see. For example, why do people call someone “emo”, just because he/she is sitting alone? Because they disapprove of that. They’d rather see someone who walks around, socialise and throw a joke or two.

So, to avoid the judgemental eyes of the public, I put on these mask to hide and merge with the crowd. So I won’t have to deal with the drama of being left out or worrying about acceptance. It is much easier than trying to make a close-minded person understand that not all of us are born with a happy family that cares and loves us with vast savings of money in the bank that assures us financial security or a bright future. And it is much easier than trying to explain to them that not every child was kept safe from physical and emotional pain. And not all of us grew up to be perfect, socially and physically accepted people. And that some of us are just irreversibly and absolutely broken inside.

So, you see, sometimes pretending is easier. Especially around people who you are not entirely sure would understand who you are.

But I have to say, I do not disguise myself to everyone. Sometimes I come across beautiful souls who are as broken as me. Or who are curious enough to want to know what being broken is because they never experienced it themselves. And when I meet those people, I take off my masks. I show them who I am. And from then on, any kind of relationship that may blossom between the two of us will entirely depend on how that person reacts to the mask-less monster that I am sure I am.

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~ by deartragedy on April 4, 2011.