Writing is both mask and unveiling. –E. B. White
Which mask would you pick? I discovered the mask I wear.
Hiding is a return to our roots, a discovery of who we are without allowing negative interference as we explore the world. The mask can be worn as an anchor to keep us grounded.
As a kite without wind, i was not ready to fly.
Yesterday, I stood in a field
experienced the openness
the freedom a kite on a string experiences
knowing he is reeled back
not to be loved but put into a corner -wait for day
reveal his true color.
I love to watch kites. It serves as inspiration, to run to the heights. In my words you catch a glimpse and only know me, from what i choose to share. I sometimes regret that I took (take) off my mask. Is it for you to know me? Why should you care?
Sometimes i rather think nothing of myself. Do i need to bleed more, with apology, that i even exist? Am I waiting for you to extol me, fill up my core with something missing? What is missing? Such somber thoughts.
Do you realize monsters fear life?
More than likely, my empty words are not done spilling. Like a kite with no wind, they wait. Should i keep them in the corner or let them go, fulfill desire? Each word extracted till but a wind exists.