Category : Diary/Journal

Sub Category : N/A

Don't be fooled by me.

Don't be fooled by the masks I wear.
For I wear a thousand masks;
masks that I'm afraid to take off,
and none of them are me!

Pretending is an art that's second nature with me,
but don't be fooled
for G-d's sake--don't be fooled.

I give the impression that I'm secure
that all is sunny and unruffled with me,
within as well as without
that "confidence" is my name
that the water's calm and I'm in command
that I need no one.
but don't believe me--please!

My surface may seem smooth,
but my surface is my mask.

Beneath that lies no complacence
beneath dwells the real me in confusion
in fear
and alone-ness.

But I hide this--I don't want anyone to know it.

I panic at the thought of my weakness in fear of being exposed.

That's why I frantically create a mask to hide behind,
a nonchalant, sophisticated facade,
to help me pretend,
to shield me from the glance that knows.

From such a glance precisely lies salvation
my only salvation
and I know it.

That is, if it's followed by acceptance
if it's followed by love.
It's the only thing that will assure me of what
I can't assure myself--
that I'm worth something.
But I don't dare tell you this
I don't dare
I'm afraid to.

I'm afraid your glance will not be followed by acceptance and love.

I'm afraid you'll think less of me
you'll laugh at me
and your laugh would kill me.

I'm afraid deep down I'm nothing
that I'm no good
and that you will see this and reject me.

So I play my game
my desperate game
with a facade of assurance without
and a trembling child within;
and so begins the parade of masks
and my life becomes a front.

I idly chatter to you in suave tones
and surface talk.

I tell you everything that is really nothing
and nothing of what's everything
of what's crying within me.

So when I'm going through my routine
don't be fooled by what I'm saying.

Please listen carefully to try to hear
what I'm not saying
but what I'd like to be able to say
but what I can't say.

I dislike hiding--!

I dislike the superficial game I'm playing;
the phony game.

I'd really like to be genuine, spontaneous and me
but you've got to help me.

You've got to hold out your hand
even when that's the last thing I seem to want.

Only you can wipe away from my eyes the
blank stare of breathing death.

Only you can call me back into alive-ness
each time you're kind and gentle and encouraging
each time you try to understand because you really care.
My heart begins to grow wings
very small wings
very feeble wings
but wings.

With your sensitivity and sympathy
and your power of understanding
you can breathe life into me;
I want to know that!

I want you to know how important you are to me
how you can be the creator of the person that is me
if you choose to--
please choose to!
You alone can break down the wall behind which I tremble.

You alone can remove my mask.

You alone can release me from my shadow world
of panic and uncertainty
from my lonely person
do not pass me by--
please--do not pass me by!

It will not be easy for you.

A long conviction of worthlessness builds strong walls.

The nearer you approach me
the blinder I strike back.

I fight against the very thing I cry out for
but I am told love is stronger than walls
and in this lies my hope.

Please try to beat down those walls with firm hands
but with gentle hands
for a child is very sensitive.

"Who am I?" you may wonder
I am someone you know very well
for I am every man you meet
and I am every woman you meet!!!