Mask

Writing

I suppose it’s about time for me to take this mask off. People claim they can see that I’m lying to them, they can see past the gently crafted layer I forced upon myself to make your worries vanish. I feel stingy every moment I do something on myself, and I feel alone when I’m expressing myself. People attempt to listen to my thoughts and try to match the wavelengths of intelligence that I excrete forth from my dim and wise mind. I just want to get this off my chest; I don’t want to go another second without you knowing that I’m always around. I’m a victim of my own crimes; I commit emotional suicidal dives into the dwellings of my demons trying to please everyone else but myself. I jump deeper and deeper.

This is the gift that I’ve been given, the simple gift that I will always drown myself in my woes and put others before me.  I want to rip this mask off, this artificial smirk that I apply as I awake and step out into the world. I tell everyone that I’m happy because they are happy. People walk around me with smiles on trying to show off their huge egos and overbearing personalities. Who am I trying to impress? Yet I wear this mask, why? Because I don’t want you to know that I’m just a lost, I don’t want you to know that I’m stranded within the inner workings of my soul.

“Don’t ever let the ills of the world pull you under”, these are the words my big brother said to me. I told him “you can always count on your little brother.” It’s hard staying afloat upon the high tides and roaring waves of life without some form or shape of help to save me, I can’t swim and I’m slowly drowning.  My mask is peeling away and the simplistic smile upon my face is fading. Reality is finally setting in.

If my mask should fall and my persona finally fades, tell all my friends that I love them.

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