Someone once told me that we can never be truthful to anyone but yourself.
Sometimes, you can't even be truthful to yourself.
We all wear masks, masks that hide our true nature, masks that disguises us as another person.
There's always an untold story behind those masks, sorrow, sickness, anger, jealousy. We hide ourselves behind masks to fit in, to look normal, to lie.
When you go so far that you not only lie to other people with the mask you wear, but you lie to yourself, you become unwilling to face the truth. You wrap up the cold, ugly truth and bury it, and you don't want to believe it, so you hide it behind a mask, behind a beautiful façade, just to make yourself feel better.
But what if we put down our masks? Can we put down the disguise and show the world our sorrow, our anger, our jealousy, and let the ugly emotions flow? No, you can't. Some hide behind the mask of a comedian to run from their problems, some act cold to avoid contact with others, to avoid getting hurt like they have been hurt before, and some just smile at everything because that's the only thing they can do.
When you're hurt, people keep telling you it will get better, or you should move on, and you smile in response. But deep down there's a pricking feeling, a throbbing pain that doesn't go away, and sometimes it shows.
You can't put up the act forever.
(Note: my mind is cluttered and untidy and structural errors are everywhere, I'm sorry but right now my mind is even messier than usual.)
