Noticed (A Monologue)

 

   This mask I wear doesn’t just keep you from knowing who I really am - or who I think I am.  It suppresses my questions and concerns.  It is a diversion even from myself.  If I play this part on the world stage, I shove aside my reservations.  Why?  Because everyone told me that my concerns were invalid or not worth the time to mull over - or just stupid.  I believed them so I rejected these thoughts.  The more I rejected them, the more invasive they became - until I found this mask to shove those thoughts behind.  How else does one function in public?

     But, now cameras are going up.  They track the moves I make.  Do you keep your curtains closed?  You should!  They are watching you too!  What?  I’m being paranoid.  Have you seen what has happened in Xinjiang?  Do you really think it isn’t happening here?  Does it make a difference whether a Communist does it or a Capitalist does it?  I’m neither one!  Just an ordinary person.  At least, I think I’m a person.

     Shit.  I’m speaking way too much.  They are probably listening.  Close that curtain!  If they see you talking to me, they might label you a dissident and humiliate you in the public square.  They’ll say it’s for the “Good of the People”.  Which people?  The humans whom they define as people.  Thus if you aren’t aligned with their thinking, you must be “educated”.

     Educated.  I’m so fucking tired of hearing that damn word.  Both the Communists & the Capitalists use it.  Thus if you don’t fit into their “order”, you are stupid.  That sounds so familiar.  Thus, I wear this mask.  I have to play along.

     Not to play along would require me to feel lonely.  Loneliness.  I can’t allow myself to feel that.  It’s too heavy.  Because if I allow myself to feel lonely, those thoughts I have been holding back are going to seep through the eyes of this mask.  No, I won’t let that happen.  I’m going to keep playing the part.  What else can I do?

     Both the Communists and the Capitalists use their ministers and their propaganda machines to influence.  Who can find truth when people are only distributing myopic angles? 

     Truth.  Does it even exist?  All I know is my truth.  Or do I?  I just said I was wearing this mask.  Of course, my thoughts that I’m hiding are just my thoughts and I can’t even be sure that they are true.  The only truth I have is that I know I am wearing this mask.  I’ll be comfortable in it.  Thoughts can only get one so far.

     If I have to direct my movements to conform to the “people”, being exposed to the camera, how much more of me do I present if I reveal my thoughts?  I have to hide those thoughts to not just protect them from myself but also from them - maybe even you.

     Whether it’s “social credit” or the “moral majority”, for all I know, you could possibly be their eyes and ears.  How do I know that you won’t relay my thoughts to them?  Is anybody here trustworthy?  Trustworthy enough for me to be vulnerable?

     Vulnerable.  Blegh.  Belly up?  Be submissive?  Fuck that!  I can’t; I won’t.  No, this mask is my protection.  It has been and it will be.  This is how we get along on the world stage.  Now, that’s reality!

     Feelings and emotions will get you nowhere.  Everybody is too busy with their own shit to care about my insignificant bullshit.  There is hunger, violence, and devastation out there.  My little neck of the woods isn’t much to speak about.

     And, maybe that’s the deal:  this need to speak.  This need to say what’s on mind.  To know that I’m not fucking crazy!  You don’t understand what I’m telling you?  Well, then, I do suppose that confirms it.  You have no response?  Well, then, I suppose your reception of what I’m putting out is a mirror of the nothingness which I am.  Or maybe you are scared of the potentiality of your own nothingness.  

     Damnit, I think I’m projecting, again. I’m just going to keep playing the game.  As you were…