The Mask I Wear

Do not be fooled by me, do not be fooled by the mask that I wear. I wear a thousand different masks, masks that I am afraid to remove and to be quite honest, none of them are the real me. Being someone on the outside to cover up the face behind the mask is something that is second nature with me.

I give you the impression that I am secure and that all is sunny and the water is calm and that I am in command while saying I don't need anyone. But please, don't believe it.

On the surface of my face and appearance it may seem smooth but underneath dwells the real me in confusion, fear and aloneness. I choose to hide this, I don't want anyone to know how I really feel. I stress and panic at the thought of my weaknesses being exposed. This is why I create my masks, because I hide behind them. They are sophisticated facades to help me pretend and to shield me from the glance that knows. Such a glance is my salvation, my only salvation and I know it.

That is, if it's followed by acceptance, and if it's followed by love. It is the only thing that can liberate me from myself, from my own self-built prison walls

I don't like hiding the real me, honestly. I don't like the superficial game that I am playing to make everyone think that I have no worries, fears or problems. I'd really love to be genuine and me, but I need your help. I need a hand to hold, even though the masks that I wear would tell you a different story, the glance from everyone around me is the only thing that assures me of what I can't assure myself, that I am actually really worth something.

Do I dare make any mention of this to anyone? Hell no, I am afraid to. I am afraid people will think less of me and that they will laugh. I am afraid that deep down, I'm nothing, that I am just no good and people will see this in the real me and reject me.

So here I play this game, my game of desperation, a façade of assurance without, and a trembling child within, so begins my parade of masks.

This shiny cover, but also empty parade of masks that my life has become a front. I idly chatter to you in suave tones of surface talk, I tell people everything that's nothing, and nothing of what's everything while under this mask I am yelling out in desperation, crying, breaking, not able to hold myself up. So when I am going though this routine that I have created, do not be fooled by what I am saying, but pay attention to what it is that I am not saying. Hear what i would like to say, but what I can't.

It won't be easy for people, long felt inadequacies make my defenses strong. The closer people approach me, the blinder I may strike back. Despite what books say of men, me.. ha, I'm irrational. I fight against the very thing that I cry out for. People wonder who I am, well you shouldn't because for I am every man and every person that wears a mask to protect their true identity in fear of persecution.

So I am asking you this, please don't be fooled by me, or at least not by the masks that I wear. It may show a flawless and unhindered outer exterior but once you remove my mask, you will see the stress, hurt, fear, anger, aloneness, and insecurity that I have about myself. Writing is my voice, my voice that is unheard by most but read by many. So when you ask me how things are, don't be surprised if my response is that of just a mask...

I love you all for understanding how hard this was to put this out there, but I have been approached by a few who have seen through the masks that I wear and are aware of the pain and suffering that I hide. But I am here, this is me, but for me, try to hear my unspoken words...