I lie dressed as naked



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It is such a strong need… an urge… I can no longer carry the burden of this fraud. It’s too heavy… with the weight of everyday lies and self-imposed dishonesty. I need to be free. Drop this heavy mask made of failures, wastes of, few times true most times faked, attempts on happiness and success. What was I thinking anyway?! Chasing happiness trough success, expecting success to be driven from happiness? What a fool! I need to get rid of this disguise, drop this lie… even if it means loosing whatever self-respect and sense of worth I have left... It suffocates me. I've worn it for so long it has started to penetrate my flesh… to the point of taking over my core functions: my brain, my heart, my lungs, my hands, my smile... If I drop this costume I'll loose myself ... When all the wastes get expelled, l’ll be empty ... there won't be any filling left… there is nothing true in me beyond this need for being repeatedly, skillfully and tremendously untrue with myself, faking in front of a false crowd. So I need to empty myself to invisibility… stop until total immobility…  stop moving, stop speaking… I’ll be no more than a thin shadow, left forgotten, next to what was once a form that never truly existed... 

I have to say it out loud: I can’t, I can’t, can’t!! I want to give up! Give up the farse. I no longer can bear the effort to put it on. You should understand I really can’t bare it anymore. I fake all the time. I fake so intensely I even fool myself. 

I was guessing that this could do it… that writing would seal the escape, the giving up compromise… would break the chain loose. But I can’t even find the words… I’m unable to grasp the strain of thought immersed in this messy mist of emotions. I fear to fail them… the words… the words that so many times rescued me… I fear them too… I fear they will fail me back. I once could somehow intuitively sway into this exercise of spiting them towards some sense of relieve and truthfulness… that used to bring me peace. I would find myself laying down and rising up and I knew by heart, I knew by breathing that it was me… At least for a while I could regain myself. I did it naked of expectations, of deceptions… naked of embarrassment. I can’t do it now…  not that I'm embarrassed... NO, this is not embarrassment. This is more than weakness... pure inability. No golden frame around it! There’s nothing here… I’m absolutely handicapped.

Why do I insist in falling instead of giving up? No more.

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