Running free, spreading wings, flying so high, leaving the sky, crossing the universe, flying so high you taste god.
We never not wear a mask, the girl muses, if you have a name, you have a mask she declares.
We all hide behind our name, we all have our secret face and some of us have even seen it. Most though, most don’t like taking off that mask, not even in the dark of night when they are alone.
You’re unmasked for but a few moments of your life, she goes on, those moments when the cold air of this reality slaps your naked bloodied skin. Than you’re given a name, given dreams and ambitions, given a place in this thing called society.
Your whole life from that moment is all about fitting into that mask. The mask develops layers and layers as you build on it, trying to be the person your parents want you to be, trying to be the person your peers want you to be, trying to be the person society wants and expects you to be.
Your mask is no longer the mask of who you are, but the mask of a slave, the mask of a sheep, the mask of someone asleep.
You’re so doomed to fail right from the very beginning, she laughs. Doomed to be a slave to your mask.
But than some are born like us, she points her finger across the void. Some are born and the mask slips, it never sits, it never feels like it is the right mask.
Some aren’t meant to wear the mask that society designed for them. Some would much rather design there own mask, a mask that truly fits their face.
A mask that is their face that is their mask that is their face, do you see what I mean, do you see that each are the same, a true mask?
They call them misfits, outcasts, outsiders, artists, crazy, insane, trouble.
And those are the best masks to wear, don’t you know, the masks no one else wants. A mere mask that reflects your very being of who you are! Not a mask that society designed for you, mass produced in the bowls of control and hysteria.
The masks that sits us outside the light, the mask we wear when dancing in the shadows, on the other side of the veil.