Masks, (not a poem!) Its prose Options

[ToxicTaco]

I keep changing masks. I use a different face for every group of friends; just so I can fit in. I pretend I'm tripping around my wasted friends, so I don't feel left out and alone. I pretend to be something or someone to everyone. I'm living a lie, and its destroying me. I don't get it, how one day can feel like I never want it to end; the next feels like some outdated B-side horror movie. I change masks so I don't feel alone, so I can feel like I mean something. It's so I don't feel like I'm a loser. Its funny, knowing that your living your life(lives?) as a lie and there is nothing you can do to stop it. Its horrifying, worse than a oncologist telling you that you have cancer or something like that, worse than getting slammed with a ton of bricks. Those things you can treat, repair, or deaden; this pain isn't softened by any drug. There is no cure, no palliative treatment; only an empty hole where you know your heart used to be. You don't know how to get it back because it was stolen so long ago. Locked away inside you feel the time bomb ticking (tick tick tick tick! tick!) inside you, but no way to defuse it. As it only exists in your head. You think…no you know, your crazy. I want to be myself, but I was myself. They tortured me mentally, made me feel insecure. They made it obvious that I didn't belong here. I was a freak; that's the message they sent me. Loud and clear, it hit me: I needed to change or I would die a social death. This is no joke, i am living this out and handling it surprisingly well. I still change masks, I still lie to keep friends. I rarely show my true self to anyone but my best friends. Its painful, but manageable if you do it right. It is truly weird to know your living the lies you try to avoid. You lose yourself in the masks. You become a part of them, multifaceted in each one. To try to figure out who you are, that is when you lose yourself even more. You do things they told you not to. You smoke to fit in, drink to fit in. The drugs eat away at you and no way will they relinquish this deadly hold. Its sad to look at yourself in the mirror, and to find the face that scares you and mocks you; is yours. I see the same blue eyes, the same once beautiful smile now faded into a straight. They haven't seen it in a while. Are you sure it exists? I see the face that looks like me, but looks emptier; faded even. It mocks you with ugliness; teeth more crooked than a redneck's, breath that smells because you've given up the hope of impressing anyone now. Your sure it's never going to happen again. Me; being the good little atheist I am, search for a reason other than God's spiteful anger. I can't find anything, nothing at all. If you could see me now, know that this was nothing of your doing. I did this to myself. I dug myself into this prison. I threw myself in the lions den. I killed my social self. Now, I have to face the vile penance of society. This is what I got for thinking I could be someone else. There's a word for this… 'acting', it mocks me know because it reminds of what I once was. I feel that if I tell anymore of my story, you'll start laughing at me, or calling me fake. This is real. It's all too real.

[Superase]

I like it!

[mipadi]

You've got a good metaphor, but I think you do too much telling, not enough showing. I'm not sure what it really is; if it's prose, make it into a story, if it's an essay or something similar, slam the point home more.

Oh, and paragraphs are nice.

[ToxicTaco]

its a monologue technically :\

[Ekay]

if it's a monologue then it fits perfectly with just telling and not showing right? it's interesting because it's true. something i learned in sociology. people wear 'social masks' in different settings. i like it