Masks #3

But there is one thing I don’t understand at all. Who am I, really, Ray? I’m putting an infinite lot of masks and I forgot which one fits me truly (or did, if at all). Is this a kind of evolutionary disorder? Everyone’s like that and I can’t deal with masks. Yea, I fabricate and put on my own ones. But, why should I? I sometime feel like blazing it all and run away like a maniac. That would be me! How long should I play this game?

And there is this disorder, Multiple Personality Disorder. They say it’s a mental condition occurring about one in thousands of people. I seriously doubt it. Aren’t we all suffering from it, already?

Cruel

What I seek is not anywhere,

It’s just within reach and in me,

But it’s hard to seek and find,

For I know, it’s a greater distance

To cross and the hardest one

            –The inward journey!

I move across and over,

Millionth of an inch at a time,

And reel backwards where I started,

My path is not hidden,

It’s in plain sight with all the light,

And that’s what making

It, hard to find and to fight!

             – The unobstructed path!

‘Coz we never knew straight paths exist

All we knew is to complicate

The simplest of things…

I close my journal (my Ray) with that note. I exhale in the privacy of my four walls. Yes, I write my encounters down daily in my journal. There is this deep down belief I got, that, written/printed words are immortal. I could make my words immortal at least, if not me, right?

Every one of us has a Symphony unheard by anyone. We keep it hidden and forget it someday. We put on masks to make ourselves belong somewhere. But, that got us nowhere but to the brink of forgetting who we are other than the string less puppets.

Terror of this situation is that, no one notices it. Screams go unheard and helpless...

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Unstrung Symphony,

- Sp -