An ode to facades...
Recently, I found that I was always an actor, one of those chasing self-satisfaction,
And in each high, slapping on a label of purpose.
Like most friendships, we attract and retain them for as long as we wish.
Fear is one such companion we can do everything with.
But unlike our fickle relationships, fear is a true master of reminders.
As you know, fear disguises itself into many shapes,
And in the width of our sufferings, too often we keep fear ambivalent.
At an arm's distance yet never keeping it away from sight,
And it whispers to us, glares at us, never giving us resolution.
Over time, we become actors. To survive.
Putting on masks and living between them.
Getting comfortably lost in the identities, and the pool of emotions.
For the imperfect nature of the human beings that we are, we cling onto each mask.
Of course… For each mask contains our stories, full of life.
I've come to believe that what the great actors say, is true.
It's inevitable for me to put on these masks…
Like a poor derelict, smiling for change.
Each mask multiplying into a looping madness of façades and alchemy of patterns.
I've clutched onto my collection long enough that everything hurt unbearably,
humbling me to the core and cathartically loosening my grip.
And I hope that the final act will no longer be an act.
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