Abstract people. Have you met them? Do you recognize them? Do they ever bother you? Do you understand them?
Understanding them is like viewing a painting. Your interpretation is limited to your understanding. Your understanding is limited to your truth.
Looking at the painting, how could you refute the visible signs of the brush if you’re only seeing the canvas? And how can you accept the beauty of its diverse colors if you hate to walk in shades of gray and live your life only in black and white?
And what is your truth? Is the sun your truth or the moon on a dark night? Is it the rainbow after the storm or the pot of gold after the rainbow? Is your truth your refuge when life is a curse or it becomes your oath when life is a gift?
Abstract people. Most of the time, you don’t understand them. Sometimes, you are one of them.
My friend ask me if i’ll be joining a halloween party. She says “I’ll be little red riding hood, what’s your costume?”
Scary thoughts suddenly creep. Do i really need to wear a costume? Am i not wearing this halloween mask all these years?
– Those moments i smile when deep inside i’m crying
– Those times i pretend i’m brave enough when my soul is scared
So numerous moments when i pretend to be someone i’m not. And no one notices because everyone is wearing their own masks.
And when the masquerade ball is inviting me to join and dance in its party, i welcome it unwittingly. And after leaving the masquerade ball, i’m no longer cautious if the mask will fall.
No matter how much one hold on to something, soon the mask will be falling. And sometimes when you look at the mirror, you don’t see the mask. You see what’s inside you. But still you question in horror why a different face welcomes you every morning when you knew all along you’re alone after the party.
Still you dust if off and learn to move on. Looking forward to the next masquerade ball.