Painting by Kandrashov Sergey

I’m afraid of being exposed. I’m afraid of revealing myself. It’s one thing to write anonymously on a little blog, my tiny words drifting in the digital black nether. But in real life? Where people can actually see me?

I have a million masks, one for every occasion. They fill my soul and clutter my identity. I hide behind their wooden colorful lifelike displays. Hiding, always hiding. Hiding everywhere except in words.

Words are my sanctuary. Words are my truth.

But I have to put the masks away now because there is something I want to do with my life that requires naked honesty. And some of my masks are beautiful and some of my masks are ugly, but none of them are me.

Now, to step naked onto the stage…