There are days when my life feels like one big optical illusion, dragging myself through the day, smiling and talking and putting out an aura of competency when inside I am just a child dressing up in grown-ups clothes, hiding behind a mask of someone's else's third act, scene II. Of course, the older I get the more comfortable I get with the the second skin of clothes and I fear they will take over me, envelope me in their sweet perfume as I lose myself in some weird grown up person who doesn't allow tears and tempers and screw ups and inappropriate outbursts of creative angst and anger and love and dreams and all those things that keep us fresh and new and innocent.
I can look back over the timeline of me and see so many changes, growths, people. I have to stretch out my arms to relate to the me's that have existed before this current incarnation. I had a friend, okay, I've had a few friends who have known me for longer than a few years brief moment and they always comment on the rapidity and ease I have for change and drama (sometimes frivilous, often folly). There have been many mes (I have an english degree and if I want to play with the damn lexicon of rules dammit I will), far to many mes and I grow weary, head drooped down in exasberation while my nose sniffs forward looking for the new me around the corner of coloured angles.
Its the optical illusion that catches my glance and I recognize a bit of myself within that. This has been a complete exercise in self absorption and we all need to do that sometimes to look within and look outwards and meld the often contradictory lines into something we can live with.