Masks

Masquerade

Hold the mask to your face, watch them fall for your fake smile. Of course they fall for it, it's the smile that has been practiced for all of an eternity.

Watch the world pass by with it's inauthenticity. Watch the lies spill out of this rancid cauldron of a world.

Whether we choose to accept it or not, we all have masks. A flimsy paper face, a smile drawn on. The tears cause the ink to bleed, so we draw it on once again. Allowing it to fool the world with it's illusion of happiness. We all choose to participate in the play, though some may believe themselves to merely be a part of the audience; observing the actors as they sham their way through the world.

Even the world has a mask. Time itself is nothing but a broken record. It is ridden with scratches that disrupt the song, rendering it nothing more than the same broken tune repeating over and over for what seems to be an eternity. Repeating itself as the sand in the hourglass falls. Flip the hourglass; start the melody once more.

Most choose not only to wear the mask, but a blindfold as well. While they see only an iota, a shred of falsity contaminating this graveyard of a world, those who choose to see past the mask see a myriad. They see the ugly truth of what is an ugly world.

Everyday is a masquerade, and you have no choose but to dance among the sea of blank faces and dead eyed stares.

So instead, write a script.

Practice the words, the movements, in a mirror, until you have perfected them.

Make it believable, make them believe you, for that is the only option you have left.

Make them believe the lies that fall from your lips far more often than the truth.

Step out of the room, step onto the stage.

Dance. Perform.

And while the rest of the world may have the priveledge of wearing a mask of paper, I do not. I wear a mask o steel, for those of paper fall all too easily when I cry. Tears are the poison, and my body the poisoned. I am ruined, broken, and have jumped off of the cliff that stands above a desolate wasteland. A desolate wasteland so that I may drown with the pain that encircles me like an atmosphere.

No, I wear a mask of steel so that I may add yet another wall around me. Another barrier, another lining of barbed wire.

I live a life on stage, a stage hidden in the shadows. I perform alongside a cast of demons.

I fool the world.