Masks

At the end, masks are easy to create, and easy to destroy. The thing is when we don’t want to let go and desperately keep ourselves in chains. To master our feelings is impossible. We don’t choose what to feel and how we demonstrate them. We don’t choose the right time or the right way. We can just put one foot in front of the other, step by step, all along. Looking back may be cheering, but doesn’t help us to stand up again.

I’m tired of waiting, sick of letting life go. Tired of wandering around alone. I can pretend being happy and everyone will believe me, but I can’t hide from myself any longer. Masks are just an illusion; they keep preoccupation away, but don’t dominate them. I’ve been controlled by the mask of fear for too long by now. I may be not strong enough to tear it apart that easily, but at least I’m willing to try.

Nothing seems to be enough for others that stand by the sideway watching me