I like masks. I find them interesting, but have never worn a Halloween mask since my 9th grade year. Still…I find them fascinating and I find the idea that we all wear masks during our daily lives interesting as well. I do think we obscure some facets about ourselves on a daily basis and we wear many masks for various reasons. Some people hide ugliness and then others hide true beauty and still others hide things they wish they could forget. The thing about the human mask is that eventually, with enough time, it can become us.
I know this all sounds very trite–I’m aware.
For me I’ve always tried to peel the mask back, to see what a person doesn’t wish to see. I find it an interesting exercise how guarded some people can be and how they too have worn a mask of certainty in the face of uncertainty so long that it becomes them. Or insecurity in my case. It’s a stressful exercise putting together a mask that becomes socially acceptable to people and at the end of the day I usually go home, take it off, and just feel exhausted.
I’ve been thinking about this a lot because I’ve been pondering where things have gotten so…difficult. To where I’ve gotten so difficult. I’ve also been thinking about this person (I’ll elaborate in the next entry) and how to deal with my feelings about them as I’ve…I dunno. On one hand I want to let loose on them, but I know they’ll go away and on the other…playing detached indifference has never been for me. I also will only wear a mask of quiet acquiescences so long before I snap.
I get the feeling I’m not very respected among some of my friends given how I’ve been treated by a few of them and that’s okay…or not. “Beware the fury of the patient man,” they say. But I can’t even muster enough fury to make it count. Now I’m just…whatever because honestly, what are you going to do? Short of physical violence, which has never been my thing, you just can’t really get through to some with words alone. So I pick my battles. I feign nonchalance as best I can–all to keep the peace–aaaaand it gets me nowhere and I write on my web log about my frustrations. Oh yeah!
If I had to describe my own mask it’s the frustrated observer who desperately wants to unload, but doesn’t. And it chokes off my emotions for certain things more than even I’m probably aware because heeey…don’t wanna get hurt, hurt anyone, or shake things up too much lest someone not like me. Yes, I’m aware I took my fate in my hands when I really felt wrong about my situation, but right now I just feel…powerless and my mask of acquiescence has become my real face where I’ll put up with any shitty situation because of convenience.
FIDo Almighty 