I think this is a good topic. I think that peeling away the mask we present to the rest of the world can be very instructive. But it can be extremely hard to do, particularly if we don't like what we see.
I know for myself I've built up a shell of skills that really hide a large amount on insecurity. That insecurity stems from the fact that I've often done just enough to get by, rather than really having to sacrifice for it or learn the true value of things. I have a veneer of emotion that I can show to people but that veneer is really pretty thin; it covers a largely emotionless individual. At best, I'm selectively emotional such that relating to other people in terms of their desires, their needs, their goals, etc. is simply not something I am often good at.
Since a lot of people here seem to express themselves in verse, here's my attempt relative to this "under the mask" idea.
Cold Dark Night
Who's in control? Who's at the wheel?
Who is controlling the way that I feel?
The me that I knew is almost totally lost.
And at what price; what inevitable cost?
It seems the night flies on invisible wings,
always hiding those that pull my strings.
If I allow the darkness to swallow me whole,
the teeth of the night will temper my soul.
And if I turn away, then midnight will fray,
like tattered dreams, never seeing the light of day.
And chaos will tend to the loom of the night,
and the final curtain will fall on my plight.
For I am a harbinger of my own mental state,
a herald, an usher, and an omen of fate.
Small as I am, I am all of these things,
and they're woven within the message I bring.
There's nothing I want, there's nothing I need.
I'm parcel and part of a much larger deed.
To let people see me as I truly am,
and spread my message the best that I can.
Our potential to do wrong can go very far,
If we lose sight of who we really are.
And if we lose sight of just what we can be,
I fear we will all end up just like me.
Trapped in this body, losing all control,
Unable to show emotions, a lonely dark soul.
Day and night I sit and feed my internal disease,
And I keep quiet those things no one else sees.
I fight a losing battle and I pretend to win,
but live in a private hell again and again.
I wear my fear like a cloak in an endless flight,
And I meet my fate in the cold dark night.
I know for myself I've built up a shell of skills that really hide a large amount on insecurity. That insecurity stems from the fact that I've often done just enough to get by, rather than really having to sacrifice for it or learn the true value of things. I have a veneer of emotion that I can show to people but that veneer is really pretty thin; it covers a largely emotionless individual. At best, I'm selectively emotional such that relating to other people in terms of their desires, their needs, their goals, etc. is simply not something I am often good at.
Since a lot of people here seem to express themselves in verse, here's my attempt relative to this "under the mask" idea.
Cold Dark Night
Who's in control? Who's at the wheel?
Who is controlling the way that I feel?
The me that I knew is almost totally lost.
And at what price; what inevitable cost?
It seems the night flies on invisible wings,
always hiding those that pull my strings.
If I allow the darkness to swallow me whole,
the teeth of the night will temper my soul.
And if I turn away, then midnight will fray,
like tattered dreams, never seeing the light of day.
And chaos will tend to the loom of the night,
and the final curtain will fall on my plight.
For I am a harbinger of my own mental state,
a herald, an usher, and an omen of fate.
Small as I am, I am all of these things,
and they're woven within the message I bring.
There's nothing I want, there's nothing I need.
I'm parcel and part of a much larger deed.
To let people see me as I truly am,
and spread my message the best that I can.
Our potential to do wrong can go very far,
If we lose sight of who we really are.
And if we lose sight of just what we can be,
I fear we will all end up just like me.
Trapped in this body, losing all control,
Unable to show emotions, a lonely dark soul.
Day and night I sit and feed my internal disease,
And I keep quiet those things no one else sees.
I fight a losing battle and I pretend to win,
but live in a private hell again and again.
I wear my fear like a cloak in an endless flight,
And I meet my fate in the cold dark night.