I’ve known people all of my life that have been less than genuine. All of them appeared to be masked to some degree. Now that I’m much older, I realized that I must come across like that to many people as well.
All of us are masked. We hide a small part of ourselves that no one can see.
Are we afraid of not being accepted?
Are we afraid we are not enough as we are?
Do we feel safe with the mask on?
How long can we hide behind our masks?
Isn’t living in the truth of all we are better?
Does the mask allow us to be part of the world or does it keep us from fulling experiencing it?
I wear mine; I know when its on. I don’t know when yours is on. Do they come off only when we feel safe? Our masks, our facades should not keep what is inside from coming out.
the idea of having to go through another day, another week of all of this. i just wish it was over. my face is washed, masked in the misery of being here and wondering if this was where i was meant to be. anxiety is hidden.
in a world of our own we dance until the sun sets, cheering slightly, smiling playfully. bleeding red all over the sky, the sun sinks into the horizon. the moon shines a dull pale, casting shadows sweetly. the mask of day falls, charade ending swiftly.
there are no more smiles here, not until the sun reaches up slowly, crawling up, up, and away.
the truth revealed.
If the lights had been on, she wouldn’t have recognized anyone anyway. Everyone was masked, just the top half of their faces obscured by all kinds of artistic covers. Diamonds and rubies, feathers, glass, stone, there was hardly a material left unused in their effort to hide their identities.
Once, there was a masked villian hiding in the slytherin dormatory. when draco was asleep, the villan turned him into a death eater. THE VILLIAN WAS……………………. VOLDEMORT!!!!
short poem:
Griffindor is red
Ravenclaw is blue
Insult harry potter
AND I WILL CRUCIO YOU!
Hufflepuff is yellow
Slytherin is green
Interrupt my fanboy moments
And never again youll be seen!
Life is masked for you to learn from it. All you will ever need is already inside of you but you have to dig through your limiting beliefs to dig out your potential and purpose in life. It’s really that easy. figure out what you want and go for it.
She wiped her face, feeling the makeup on her fingers, oily and pungent. She splashed water over her eyes and watched the pigment run down her face. She was finally starting to recognize herself.
Maybe we’re not so different. Maybe one person’s perceptions are simply those masked by another. Maybe we all experience this life the same way and we choose to respond differently. Maybe I’m choosing the wrong way. Maybe.
Seems like this word is about complete portion of face which is masked by a piece of cloth. It is actually winter here so I can connect it with that only. It is actually a new word for me to write on and first time after logging in too.
He woke up one night, thinking that he was dreaming. After recently learning about lucid dreaming and waking up his consciousness. He found himself looking at an interesting mask. He put it on his face and than the incredible happened.
“The Masked Avenger?”
No, that’s so corny.
“The Shadow?”
What even?
“Fish Gacy?”
Okay so I’m a murderer now?
“Paul O’Neil.”
Wellp. I guess I’ll just go with my actual name for this too.
real estate “deals”
burned budgets, clients crying
smile-MASKED lying
shady institutes
Bonnie Housing, Clyde Learning
make the destitute
[ Remember, competitive pricing means a business just copies others
that are trying to get/keep too much from you, and their offers are nothing special.
Hold out for the deals, or take your money and talents elsewhere like me, folks.]
Everytime I see myself in the mirror, I feel like I am becoming more and more unfamiliar with myself. Like I’ve masked my emotions to the point where they are trying to rip through my skin, I can’t feel it.
When the masked person came out of my closet, I was frightened, but hopeful to make a new friend. Since I was the extroverted kind of person, I wanted a new friend
You hide behind smiles
You hide behind lies
You laugh all the time
But you’re dying inside
All bottled up
Those feelings will eat you
You better let them out
Or they might consume you
The masked bandit snuck through the room, unaware that I was watching. I was too afraid to move, so I sat behind the couch and hoped he would leave soon. I heard him talking to someone, hushed. He sounded like he was part of some scheme.
Nights without you are hard, but nights I use are even harder. I will lose you before I lose myself ever again. The dope has never fixed my problems, only temporarily masked them. I will recover.
Memes can be very cooperative. If you don’t appreciate them, then the memes can get very extreme. Memes can often make people laugh, cry, or even get offended. Sometimes, memes are about the current events happening at the time, for example, the 2016 election and Donald Trump and Hillary Clinton.
He painted a mask on his face using pigs blood and mud. Jack and his group at the other end of the island. Here they were, the peak of WWll, on their way home from a trip. They group of boys were there for different reasons they had the fulfill, but they never did.
The group had became a tribe of savages, wild animals. Killing for fun. Dances and the beast. It was fun for Jack’s group;who had long hair and painted faces from mud and the blood of the ‘Lord of the Flies’.
How do we cope with all the curveballs that are thrown our way? Do we runaway from it or go against it? As crazy as it may sound but some of us prefer to hideaway and put on a mask. Concealing what we truly feel maybe tormenting for some but its actually a safe way to rid your self from what others might think. We choose to be masked because we are in a society that pushes us to be on the happy side even if we are not in such state. But do we really want to be masked for the rest of our lives?
Why have you masked your feelings for me? You stand there off to the side, looking so distant and indifferent. From your kiss last night, though, I know better.
She wanted to see behind the masks. Peel them off to study what was behind them. Was the mask wearer hiding true ugliness? Large noses, skin pustules, scars, mustaches not wanted, tiny eyes, missing chins. Yes, she learned that, although a very few hid rapturous beauty. She wanted to ask those, “Why?” but her rules precluded conversations. She got bored by it finally. Behind the mask was all the same. A face covered by skin. Once she understood that skin was the ubiqutous mask, she wanted to see behind it. Peel it off. She bought a hunting knife used to skin animals. She thought she’d start with her husband. Once she saw underneath the skin mask to the flesh, she was hooked.
She was drunk and hanging off me. I’d threaten to kiss her once, but never meant it. Although I did tease her with the prospect all night. She liked the idea and chased me as if she wanted it, but was too petrified to lean in any closer. Nor the other one, the mousey one, that likes to follow and flirt. I always found it suspicious hands-y never felt the quiet one up as if she were not quite as attracted to mousey somehow? It didn’t make sense to me because hands-y was all over everyone. I’d have kissed neither in the end. A flirt’s fun is harmless, or toothless I should say. Anyway, I save the real kisses for the ones that make me feel bolder vs colder. Regardless, she wasn’t the first kissy-faced drunk woman who’s pawed at me over the years. I don’t know. Call me an old romantic. But that sort of fun just isn’t the same now that I’ve gotten to this point in time. I prefer it when we’re sober. When the essence of woman buzzes like a life force on our lips.
I had been hiding for entirely too long. Yes, he hurt me. Yes, I saw a monster every time I looked in the mirror.
I was tired of hiding.
I looked into the brutal reflection of my bathroom mirror one last time before I walked into my bedroom and looked down at the bottle of pills that came in the mail. I didn’t have a face anymore, and it was time to remove the mask. It was time to be free. I swallowed every pill in the bottle and snuggled into my bed for the last time.
I had been hiding for entirely too long. Yes, he hurt me. Yes, I saw a monster every time I looked in the mirror.
I was tired of hiding.
I looked into the brutal reflection of my bathroom mirror one last time before I walked into my bedroom and looked down at the bottle of pills that came in the mail. I didn’t have a face anymore, and it was time to remove the mask. It was time to be free. I swallowed every pill in the bottle and snuggled into my bed for the last time.
All I knew about the one who called themselves The Rogue was that they were masked. Of course, all of my friends thought it was silly that I was even looking into the situation. Their philosophy was that if a vigilante couldn’t think of a better name than one of the X-Men, then it wasn’t worth my time.
Still, I researched, and I looked around. And lo and behold, I found them, mask and al.
I look in the mirror and repeat my lines. But I don’t much care for the mask I wear. So I take it off and chuck it into the bin behind me. It cracks when it hits the wall. Fragments fall as it crumbles into a heap where countless others shift under the weight. Tinkling rounded-pieces roll downward, creates a mountain of cast-off identities, “Who am I now?”
masked , i cant seem to find you anymore. covered up. gone but still there. where are you? i dont know. masquerade you are. ghastly white veil you wore.
Maskiert. Wie wäre ich maskiert? Nicht mit einer blöden Karnevalsmaske, sondern irgendwie so “verkleidet”, unkenntlich gemacht, dass ich anders aussehe, dass man mich nicht erkennt, dass ich aber so aussehe, wie ein ganz normaler Durchschnittsmemnsch aussehen könnte. Würde ich mich dann so verhalten wie ich es jetzt tue? Wie würde ich mich verhalten, wenn ich nicht ständig all die angelernten Verhaltensmuster wiederholen würde?
I’ve known people all of my life that have been less than genuine. All of them appeared to be masked to some degree. Now that I’m much older, I realized that I must come across like that to many people as well.
All of us are masked. We hide a small part of ourselves that no one can see.
Are we afraid of not being accepted?
Are we afraid we are not enough as we are?
Do we feel safe with the mask on?
How long can we hide behind our masks?
Isn’t living in the truth of all we are better?
Does the mask allow us to be part of the world or does it keep us from fulling experiencing it?
I wear mine; I know when its on. I don’t know when yours is on. Do they come off only when we feel safe? Our masks, our facades should not keep what is inside from coming out.
the idea of having to go through another day, another week of all of this. i just wish it was over. my face is washed, masked in the misery of being here and wondering if this was where i was meant to be. anxiety is hidden.
in a world of our own we dance until the sun sets, cheering slightly, smiling playfully. bleeding red all over the sky, the sun sinks into the horizon. the moon shines a dull pale, casting shadows sweetly. the mask of day falls, charade ending swiftly.
there are no more smiles here, not until the sun reaches up slowly, crawling up, up, and away.
the truth revealed.
If the lights had been on, she wouldn’t have recognized anyone anyway. Everyone was masked, just the top half of their faces obscured by all kinds of artistic covers. Diamonds and rubies, feathers, glass, stone, there was hardly a material left unused in their effort to hide their identities.
Once, there was a masked villian hiding in the slytherin dormatory. when draco was asleep, the villan turned him into a death eater. THE VILLIAN WAS……………………. VOLDEMORT!!!!
short poem:
Griffindor is red
Ravenclaw is blue
Insult harry potter
AND I WILL CRUCIO YOU!
Hufflepuff is yellow
Slytherin is green
Interrupt my fanboy moments
And never again youll be seen!
Life is masked for you to learn from it. All you will ever need is already inside of you but you have to dig through your limiting beliefs to dig out your potential and purpose in life. It’s really that easy. figure out what you want and go for it.
She wiped her face, feeling the makeup on her fingers, oily and pungent. She splashed water over her eyes and watched the pigment run down her face. She was finally starting to recognize herself.
Maybe we’re not so different. Maybe one person’s perceptions are simply those masked by another. Maybe we all experience this life the same way and we choose to respond differently. Maybe I’m choosing the wrong way. Maybe.
Seems like this word is about complete portion of face which is masked by a piece of cloth. It is actually winter here so I can connect it with that only. It is actually a new word for me to write on and first time after logging in too.
The masked man
He woke up one night, thinking that he was dreaming. After recently learning about lucid dreaming and waking up his consciousness. He found himself looking at an interesting mask. He put it on his face and than the incredible happened.
“The Masked Avenger?”
No, that’s so corny.
“The Shadow?”
What even?
“Fish Gacy?”
Okay so I’m a murderer now?
“Paul O’Neil.”
Wellp. I guess I’ll just go with my actual name for this too.
real estate “deals”
burned budgets, clients crying
smile-MASKED lying
shady institutes
Bonnie Housing, Clyde Learning
make the destitute
[ Remember, competitive pricing means a business just copies others
that are trying to get/keep too much from you, and their offers are nothing special.
Hold out for the deals, or take your money and talents elsewhere like me, folks.]
Everytime I see myself in the mirror, I feel like I am becoming more and more unfamiliar with myself. Like I’ve masked my emotions to the point where they are trying to rip through my skin, I can’t feel it.
When the masked person came out of my closet, I was frightened, but hopeful to make a new friend. Since I was the extroverted kind of person, I wanted a new friend
Ivy-fingers, covered face,
and the hope that time
is not a man who runs.
Cherish me.
Kiss me until
I’m breathless,
and remind me of all
the things I have yet
to see — the beautiful
memories we have
together.
I have wanted to die.
Sometimes, I still do.
When I run until my lungs
turn blue and morose,
a coroner’s dream,
run towards me, not away.
But I am not a girl
who stays in one place,
and my eyes are hidden
in the foliage.
You hide behind smiles
You hide behind lies
You laugh all the time
But you’re dying inside
All bottled up
Those feelings will eat you
You better let them out
Or they might consume you
The masked bandit snuck through the room, unaware that I was watching. I was too afraid to move, so I sat behind the couch and hoped he would leave soon. I heard him talking to someone, hushed. He sounded like he was part of some scheme.
Nights without you are hard, but nights I use are even harder. I will lose you before I lose myself ever again. The dope has never fixed my problems, only temporarily masked them. I will recover.
Memes can be very cooperative. If you don’t appreciate them, then the memes can get very extreme. Memes can often make people laugh, cry, or even get offended. Sometimes, memes are about the current events happening at the time, for example, the 2016 election and Donald Trump and Hillary Clinton.
He painted a mask on his face using pigs blood and mud. Jack and his group at the other end of the island. Here they were, the peak of WWll, on their way home from a trip. They group of boys were there for different reasons they had the fulfill, but they never did.
The group had became a tribe of savages, wild animals. Killing for fun. Dances and the beast. It was fun for Jack’s group;who had long hair and painted faces from mud and the blood of the ‘Lord of the Flies’.
How do we cope with all the curveballs that are thrown our way? Do we runaway from it or go against it? As crazy as it may sound but some of us prefer to hideaway and put on a mask. Concealing what we truly feel maybe tormenting for some but its actually a safe way to rid your self from what others might think. We choose to be masked because we are in a society that pushes us to be on the happy side even if we are not in such state. But do we really want to be masked for the rest of our lives?
The masked hide, this much is true
But they see things we cannot as a result
The masked see all that is old and new
About us amidst the tumult.
This sucked. One of the worst things I’ve typed as a response to a prompt here. Ugh. One of those days.
Why have you masked your feelings for me? You stand there off to the side, looking so distant and indifferent. From your kiss last night, though, I know better.
She wanted to see behind the masks. Peel them off to study what was behind them. Was the mask wearer hiding true ugliness? Large noses, skin pustules, scars, mustaches not wanted, tiny eyes, missing chins. Yes, she learned that, although a very few hid rapturous beauty. She wanted to ask those, “Why?” but her rules precluded conversations. She got bored by it finally. Behind the mask was all the same. A face covered by skin. Once she understood that skin was the ubiqutous mask, she wanted to see behind it. Peel it off. She bought a hunting knife used to skin animals. She thought she’d start with her husband. Once she saw underneath the skin mask to the flesh, she was hooked.
She was drunk and hanging off me. I’d threaten to kiss her once, but never meant it. Although I did tease her with the prospect all night. She liked the idea and chased me as if she wanted it, but was too petrified to lean in any closer. Nor the other one, the mousey one, that likes to follow and flirt. I always found it suspicious hands-y never felt the quiet one up as if she were not quite as attracted to mousey somehow? It didn’t make sense to me because hands-y was all over everyone. I’d have kissed neither in the end. A flirt’s fun is harmless, or toothless I should say. Anyway, I save the real kisses for the ones that make me feel bolder vs colder. Regardless, she wasn’t the first kissy-faced drunk woman who’s pawed at me over the years. I don’t know. Call me an old romantic. But that sort of fun just isn’t the same now that I’ve gotten to this point in time. I prefer it when we’re sober. When the essence of woman buzzes like a life force on our lips.
I had been hiding for entirely too long. Yes, he hurt me. Yes, I saw a monster every time I looked in the mirror.
I was tired of hiding.
I looked into the brutal reflection of my bathroom mirror one last time before I walked into my bedroom and looked down at the bottle of pills that came in the mail. I didn’t have a face anymore, and it was time to remove the mask. It was time to be free. I swallowed every pill in the bottle and snuggled into my bed for the last time.
I had been hiding for entirely too long. Yes, he hurt me. Yes, I saw a monster every time I looked in the mirror.
I was tired of hiding.
I looked into the brutal reflection of my bathroom mirror one last time before I walked into my bedroom and looked down at the bottle of pills that came in the mail. I didn’t have a face anymore, and it was time to remove the mask. It was time to be free. I swallowed every pill in the bottle and snuggled into my bed for the last time.
All I knew about the one who called themselves The Rogue was that they were masked. Of course, all of my friends thought it was silly that I was even looking into the situation. Their philosophy was that if a vigilante couldn’t think of a better name than one of the X-Men, then it wasn’t worth my time.
Still, I researched, and I looked around. And lo and behold, I found them, mask and al.
I look in the mirror and repeat my lines. But I don’t much care for the mask I wear. So I take it off and chuck it into the bin behind me. It cracks when it hits the wall. Fragments fall as it crumbles into a heap where countless others shift under the weight. Tinkling rounded-pieces roll downward, creates a mountain of cast-off identities, “Who am I now?”
I ask the mirror.
It replies, “Pick up another clay sheet.”
I start to inscribe…
masked , i cant seem to find you anymore. covered up. gone but still there. where are you? i dont know. masquerade you are. ghastly white veil you wore.
Maskiert. Wie wäre ich maskiert? Nicht mit einer blöden Karnevalsmaske, sondern irgendwie so “verkleidet”, unkenntlich gemacht, dass ich anders aussehe, dass man mich nicht erkennt, dass ich aber so aussehe, wie ein ganz normaler Durchschnittsmemnsch aussehen könnte. Würde ich mich dann so verhalten wie ich es jetzt tue? Wie würde ich mich verhalten, wenn ich nicht ständig all die angelernten Verhaltensmuster wiederholen würde?