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Masks and Strangers

Its funny really how people react when they see a different side of you. I made this blog public and linked it both to my webpage and my msn. No, not to get attention. I am not seeking attention. I would just like to somehow show my thoughts, the real me in a way, to those that have no idea. Not like most of them even have a look, but anyway.

Strange really, I think no one knows who I am. I can't get rid of the masks, I have a whole row of them, stacked in racks, never out of my reach, trailing behind me, like a cart in a way, or maybe like one of those metal weights that they depict the prisoners in the Wild West chained to. Go to class, pull out the hard working, ambitious, friendly mask, come home, kid myself into thinking I can cope alone, go online, pretend I am strong and can help those that need someone to talk to, listen, give advice. Chat to others, my boys, pretend to be ok, always ok, they don know who I am, I don't think they have a clue. They ask, but not really. Neither of them has ever tried to peer behind tha facade. Never me, why can I never be me? I don't know I know who I am anymore, I dunno I can't find my mask, my original mask, my original face anymore. I think I lost it.

People can talk to me, well many can, it seems. Even in res, in person, there were those that spoke, but even more online. I mean there are people I have spoken to for weeks, months, years, many years, and I know so much about them, I can say I know them. But you know what? They know nothing about me. Nothing! They don't even ask about me. They aren't interested. Maybe they are too scared to ask. Maybe they think I might scare them off, are afraid of my answers, that maybe I also need someone. I do. I need someone to ask, to care. Not even in a 'I love you way'. No. I need simple buds to actually mean it when they say 'how are you'. I need to be able to answer them honestly.

I always care. I think its a weakness. I can't remember who said that to me, but its true. It kills me, always. I am always full of questions, and you know what? Those are actually not a mask, I am not pretending I care or want to know, I think those might actually be me. I love learning about people, I ask because I actually do want to know. I do. Really I do. I do. Why though? Whats up woth the questions, the never ending curiosity? I guess thats just one of those strange things about me.

Sometimes people are closed up though, private I guess, or they have no reason to trust, to open up. Its strange really. Does it bother me? Not really. I understand what privacy is like, that sometimes its control when everything is out of control, sometimes its a token. Not sure, butI thank all those that do trust me, and all those that are giving me a chance, maybe I can prove myself, I often feel I need to. I just don't know how.

I am sad. I think I'd laugh at myself if I was not me. Point, laugh, maybe turn around and walk away. Turn my back, leave that retched being, desperate, lonely, needy, sad, and lost, behind me. Maybe throw a stone. Turn my back, for good, no looking back. Walk away. Into the distance. Towards a real life full of warmth. I wish I could. I wish I wasn't me.