Plaster Faces
Something in my mind has been brought to the fore by recent events. Supposedly life carves us into the person we eventually become, but my question is: What if these carvings we see as ourself is really just shrouding us from our true self. What if, at any moment, something as simple as rain washes away what we believe to be the representation of us to reveal something altogether more....sinister. I sometimes have to suppress an bad impulse, like kicking someone at complete random, just cause they happen to be sitting across from me. Is this just brief madness, or is it merely a snippet into the evil who lies beneath this seemingly timid, nice guy you have all come to know, and maybe one day, love. In order to love someone, first you must know them in and out. But how can you know someone else, until you know yourself?