Masks & Demons
I really don't trust myself right now.
Or rather, I should say I dont trust aspects of my self. Intentions, convictions, passions... lately all these things have been looking a whole lot like obsession.
I've been there before, and I'll be damned if I ever go back.
But its getting harder and harder to make concrete distinctions. Do I do X because I really feel Y, or is it actually because X is a function of Z? Do I even really feel Y at all? Have I forced myself into so much cognitive restructuring that I can't even recognize what's real or what I really feel? I think the problem is that I'm far too good at the art of self-deception.
Certainly playing roles has definite utility. Someone in my truth box told me to stop playing them. I'm pretty sure this person, if it is who I think it is, doesn't realize what a bad idea that is in their case. I really need to believe this pretence right now, trust me. It's better this way. You need me this way. I need to believe to be this way. I wont have to play this role for much longer though. This particular mask is one I dont plan on taking with me. I wont need it where I'm going. So don't think of me as being dishonest. I'm just sitting on top of Pandora's box hoping the shit inside will suffocate.
Still... its getting harder to keep track of the masks. of the selves. facets of my self. Sometimes i feel like I'm holding onto water.
One thing is clear - my demons are restless.
For so long it's been like I buried them in the back yard, but forgot where. I've known they were there, but I figured good riddance. Nothing stays buried forever. I see their pallor in the blades of grass. I smell them in the flowers. I hear them in the wind.
the truth is I'm a wickedly intense person. this intensity inside of me I dilligently hide from view. Keeping it safely locked away from all of you. But once in a while I feel it seeping through.
and sometimes it bursts in a blinding flash, frightening, intense, and inappropriate.
Or at least to me. Maybe only I can see it. They're my demons, after all.
Or rather, I should say I dont trust aspects of my self. Intentions, convictions, passions... lately all these things have been looking a whole lot like obsession.
I've been there before, and I'll be damned if I ever go back.
But its getting harder and harder to make concrete distinctions. Do I do X because I really feel Y, or is it actually because X is a function of Z? Do I even really feel Y at all? Have I forced myself into so much cognitive restructuring that I can't even recognize what's real or what I really feel? I think the problem is that I'm far too good at the art of self-deception.
Certainly playing roles has definite utility. Someone in my truth box told me to stop playing them. I'm pretty sure this person, if it is who I think it is, doesn't realize what a bad idea that is in their case. I really need to believe this pretence right now, trust me. It's better this way. You need me this way. I need to believe to be this way. I wont have to play this role for much longer though. This particular mask is one I dont plan on taking with me. I wont need it where I'm going. So don't think of me as being dishonest. I'm just sitting on top of Pandora's box hoping the shit inside will suffocate.
Still... its getting harder to keep track of the masks. of the selves. facets of my self. Sometimes i feel like I'm holding onto water.
One thing is clear - my demons are restless.
For so long it's been like I buried them in the back yard, but forgot where. I've known they were there, but I figured good riddance. Nothing stays buried forever. I see their pallor in the blades of grass. I smell them in the flowers. I hear them in the wind.
the truth is I'm a wickedly intense person. this intensity inside of me I dilligently hide from view. Keeping it safely locked away from all of you. But once in a while I feel it seeping through.
and sometimes it bursts in a blinding flash, frightening, intense, and inappropriate.
Or at least to me. Maybe only I can see it. They're my demons, after all.