"Ewan, Masyadong Magulo"

No.20 | Paper Mache Mask

   When I was a kid I liked creating paper mache.
   I always thought it would help shaping my imagination, so I kept making it.
   I made thousands of pieces (mug, flower pot, ball, lamp) until my brain figured out the mask design...
    When I made the first mask I put a happy face on it.
    I always use it,
    I always wear it.
    I feel as safe as I'm under that happy mask I made.
    I made that mask to escape to the  emotions that I should be releasing.
    I can't just show it, you know. The– that feeling it's hard. I'm frightened because I'm a coward.
    You can only see my happy mask.
    You can only see my happy face.
    I did that to escape but how can I escape this mask?
    I can't take it off, I can no longer remove the mask...
    I abruptly recognized it was just paper, after all, so I quickly picked up the match and burn it.
    When I looked in the mirror the mask was not burning but my face.
    I cried and cried.
    Not because of my burning face or the paper mask that I can't remove ... I'm crying because I know next time I won't see the real "me" again or the real emotion I should have released.
    After that, I was surprised that the paper mache mask was destroyed, it was destroyed by my tears, it become wet. it was destroyed slowly and I saw my face with full of tears.
                                                                                                       
       "I know this is me, I know this is me– " I repeated it as my tears kept flowing down to my face.