I look outside the window trying to read faces. Something I have always done in my solitude. Not because people are fascinating, but because I’ve recently come to the realisation that faces are just a façade, a plastered idea of what the one wearing the mask wants us to see. We see these faces everyday, but do we?
I try to read through them, strangers, acquaintances, friends and even the one’s closest to me. I have always tried to look past those devoid eyes that pretend to be so full of everything sometimes. I have always tried to look past the smile that shines bright emitting positivity, a beautiful vibe to have around. What I’ve realised is that everybody is pushing themselves to be at an end they don’t look up to.
I’ve seen the fight in the eyes of the one who walks the road, eyes on the ground and shoulders heavy from the weight of the world.
I’ve seen what it feels like to be lost in a crowd, not knowing anybody, even one self. I’ve looked across at a tear running down a cheek and I’ve felt the feeling of a heartbreaking for reasons I will never know. The thing is. We try too hard.
We’re all trying really hard, to be what others expect us to be, to act our age while we clearly don’t want to, to align according to societal demands, to fulfill our roles that are upon us. We are trying too hard to live right, not the idea of right that we agree to, but the idea of right that is taught to us. The idea of the right thing that is a right thing to only a few. We mold our selves into the shape that will be pleasing to the eyes of others and in the process of changing to be accepted, somewhere we lose who we really are.
We are lost, unto ourselves so much, that to some of us we are a stranger in the mirror.
I just think we try so hard to comply and conform to everybody’s expectations that we in the meantime while, forget where our heart belongs, forget what drives our soul, forget what we believe in
and most sadly,
we forget ourselves.