sâmbătă, 24 februarie 2018


I might make an attempt at dissimulation sometimes, I can paint myself in the colors that I want you to see, I can twist and shift my personality to any degree or I might just be honest, but it still wouldn’t be me. Who I really am when I am seen from so many angles? With so many eyes on me and the unlimited perspectives, could I ever say “this is me”, without ever lying? Who am I if everytime I’m someone else in everyone’s mind?

If I look in the mirror, I don’t recognize myself, I don’t own this body, yet he owns my mind. He’s the one being judged, he’s the one defining me. In a world where people make their opinions based on appearances, how could I dare to say that I’m more than my material self? I’m more than just flesh and blood but there’s nothing else that you would like to see.

I’m collecting tags from people, like I’m a product on display. “Ugly”, “arrogant”, “you keep reading those books but you are still dumb”, “she’s getting better in time, just like wine”, that’s just a few of them. Am I really any of these? And then I started to pretend, to play a role that I only knew I had. I invited them to label me. So I became “mean”, “nerd”, “stay away from her, she only wants your money”. But behind the curtains, I was the mean one for being honest and realistic, for standing for myself and telling ‘no’ to people who wanted to use me. I was the nerd for reading books when we had long breaks, for having a teacher support my writings. I was the mean nerd that wouldn’t let her bullies copy her homework and I still wonder how in this world can you insult someone every day and still expect them to help you. I was the gold digger because I wanted a career that would bring me plenty of money so I can travel around the world and yes, I like money, who doesn’t? Yet, that doesn’t mean that’s the only reason I would be with someone. And each of those... I am the only one who knows them, while they carry all of those deformed versions of me around with them.

There’s so many of me that I even get confused, so many different ways that I act with certain people, so many pictures of me inside their head that I’ll never get to see. From the friend that it’s very religious with who I have to act accordingly to my friends that told me after an year that they never expected me to be this funny or that they thought at first that I was the most materialistic human being on earth until they figured out I was only putting a masquerade. From my offending and dark jokes to expressing that I care by being clingy or jealous. From acting like I would murder someone without any remorse to still regretting the day I voluntary stept on a snail out of curiosity when I was seven. From crying for weeks every time my so called friends abandoned me to not being able to cry at my grandmother funeral.

Those are all pieces of me and there are so much more. I keep putting on masks and only show a side of myself at time but perhaps someday someone will stay long enough by my side to find out what’s really behind the curtains, until then the show must go on.

In the end, I can’t point at something and say that this is who I am, because there’s a “me” in each one of you now and I’ll never know which of them is my true self and you won’t know either. I let you see only what I wanted you to see, therefore all of this might be a bluff.

 I’m a pretender, we all are.

Also I wanted to share with you a quote that is and remained my favourite for six years, I can’t find the name of the author so if any of you know it, please tell me.
“Everyone is a liar - one way or another- to one degree or another. No one can tell the truth about themselves, it is quite impossible.”


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