This Masquerade called Life

Someone once told me that everyone carries a mask with them wherever they go. Sometimes they might even carry several, taking on different personalities as they meet different people. Only to take of the mask when they are alone.

That, ladies and gentleman is the art of living.
You don't need to be Julia Roberts or Brad Pitt Or Angelina Jolie Or any politician to wear that mask on the stage called life.

The only difference between them and us is that they are better looking.

Sometimes, I am so tired of all this phoniness. As simple as one tries to be, there is no way one can emerge out of this life without unaffected by one's surroundings. I am tired of wearing the mask. Yet, without it, don't we all feel almost vunerable having to face this world without having something to shield all the skeletons in our closets from public scrutiny, our greatest hopes and expectations, and our insecurities and fears. It is simply too cruel a fate to be brought upon ourselves dont you think? That's why all of us prefer to live behind Mardi Gras-like masks instead of our real faces. After all, the latter is really such a sad contrast compared to the painted porcelain faces.

Indeed the greatest actors and actresses do not walk the stage of Broadway. They exist everywhere. Undetectable and oh so unsuspecting, they could be anyone. They have been fooling you for years and perhaps will continue fooling you for many years to come as well. That is the drama of life and as they say, the show must go on no matter what. And so it will.

Sometimes though, I think we are the greatest fools in our little masquerade.

Labels: personal