The Age of Enlightenment.

I see my past self in the mistakes of others and I'm ashamed of how far I've fallen, countless excuses I have conjured up for myself. A whole new perspective really...

Yes, eyes are forward looking, we are engineered that way. All we see in the mirror is always what we want to see, because it is merely a reflection which we scrutinise and change that we do not agree with.

The eyes are hardly inward looking, we care too much about how we perceive other people perceiving us to really take that introspective inspection upon ourselves. I suppose that is the flame of life, burning in us the need for alacrity (but not clarity) with which to treasure time and live for the moment, indulge in the very spontaneity of the moment. Yet, oftentimes I succumb to my whims and fancies, my very emotional mood swings. Never once did I pause to see where I could have gone wrong.

No, the world does not revolve around me, no amount of whining, complaining and bitching is gonna get me anything more than attention seeking sycophants or that 'get a life!' sneer. In truth, yes, I do need to get a life, because I've been living a lie conjured up by my silly head. No, everything is NOT going to be fine if I just sit here and cry. Pain is weakness leaving the body. What doesn't kill you only makes you stronger.

There is the initial masked self, and then there's the staged self, before we finally descend upon the true self.

We mask ourselves yes, to perform to socially acceptable standards. To conform more like, twisting something that is natural into something stilted. Why? To fade into mediocrity? Or afraid of persecution - people fear that which they do not understand, and thus they excise it. Homophobia, racism, xenophobia, gender discrimination. They cruelly categorise and label as such, like uniform inferior products in a factory line, nothing more. We are not mere goods for sale, we are humans. With every right to live and love as anyone else.

Stigma, how far can one run away from that, today? I stage myself to hide. I hide my true self less to those I know.

No, it's no longer about the me, myself and I. Wondering 'why me', 'why doesn't anybody understand me', that I hope is a thing of the past for me. And after all this while, I think I finally know why.

Out of that pit of self-pity.
Out.
NOW.

Some day I might find myself looking in your eyes
But for now, we'll go on living separate lives
Yes for now, we'll go on living separate lives
Separate lives