My Operamy greatest deception..
Monday, June 11, 2012 9:57:34 PM
Don't be fooled by me. Don't be fooled by the face i wear. For i wear a thousand masks, masks that i'm afraid to take off, and none of them are real. Pretending is an art that's second nature to me, but dont be fooled. my surface may seem smooth, but my surface is a mask. beneath this lies no complacence. beneath dwells the real me in confusion, in fear and aloness. But i hide this. I don't want anybody to know it. I panic at the thought of my weakness and fear of being exposed. that's why i fratically create a mask to hide behind, a nonchalant, sofisticated facade, to help me pretend, to shield me from the glance that knows. But such a glance is precisely my salvation, and i know it. That is, if it is followed by acceptance and love. It's the only thing that will assure me of what i can't assure myself, that i am worth something..
But I don't tell you this. I don't dare. I'm afraid to. I'm afraid your glance will not be followed by acceptance and love. I'm afraid you'll think less of me, that you'll laugh at me. And your laugh would kill me. I'm afraid that deep down I'm nothing, that i'm no good, and that you will see this and reject me. So i play my game, my desperate game, with a facade of assurance without, and a trembling child within..
And so begins the parade of masks. And my life becomes a front. I idly chatter to you in the suave tones of surface talk, i tell you everything that is really nothing, and nothing of what is really everything. Of what's crying within me; so when I'm going through my routine, do not be fooled by what I'm saying. Please listen carefully and try to hear what I'm not saying, what I'd like to be able to say, what for survival I need to say, but what I can't say, I dislike hiding. Honestly. I dislike the superficial game I'm playing, the phoney game. I'd really like to be genuine and spontaneous and me. But you've got to assist. You've go to hold out your hand, even when that's the last thing I seem to want. Only you can call me into aliveness..
Each time you've been kind, and gentle - and encouraging each time you try to understand because you really care; my heart begins to grow wings. Very small wings, very feeble - but wings. With your sensitivity and sympathy, and your power of understanding, you can assist me to be me. I want you to know that. I want you to know how important you are to me,how you can assist the person that is me, if you will. Please choose to.
Do not pass me by. PLEASE -- DO NOT PASS ME BY! It will not be easy for you. A long conviction of worthlessness builds strong walls. The nearer you approach me, the blinder i strike back. I fight against the very thing i cry out for. But I am told that love is stronger than walls and in this lies my hope. Please try to beat down those walls with firm hands, but with gentle hands, for a child is sensitive. Who am I, you may wonder? I am someone you know very well. FOR I AM EVERYONE YOU MEET.
But I don't tell you this. I don't dare. I'm afraid to. I'm afraid your glance will not be followed by acceptance and love. I'm afraid you'll think less of me, that you'll laugh at me. And your laugh would kill me. I'm afraid that deep down I'm nothing, that i'm no good, and that you will see this and reject me. So i play my game, my desperate game, with a facade of assurance without, and a trembling child within..
And so begins the parade of masks. And my life becomes a front. I idly chatter to you in the suave tones of surface talk, i tell you everything that is really nothing, and nothing of what is really everything. Of what's crying within me; so when I'm going through my routine, do not be fooled by what I'm saying. Please listen carefully and try to hear what I'm not saying, what I'd like to be able to say, what for survival I need to say, but what I can't say, I dislike hiding. Honestly. I dislike the superficial game I'm playing, the phoney game. I'd really like to be genuine and spontaneous and me. But you've got to assist. You've go to hold out your hand, even when that's the last thing I seem to want. Only you can call me into aliveness..
Each time you've been kind, and gentle - and encouraging each time you try to understand because you really care; my heart begins to grow wings. Very small wings, very feeble - but wings. With your sensitivity and sympathy, and your power of understanding, you can assist me to be me. I want you to know that. I want you to know how important you are to me,how you can assist the person that is me, if you will. Please choose to.
Do not pass me by. PLEASE -- DO NOT PASS ME BY! It will not be easy for you. A long conviction of worthlessness builds strong walls. The nearer you approach me, the blinder i strike back. I fight against the very thing i cry out for. But I am told that love is stronger than walls and in this lies my hope. Please try to beat down those walls with firm hands, but with gentle hands, for a child is sensitive. Who am I, you may wonder? I am someone you know very well. FOR I AM EVERYONE YOU MEET.
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