Deceit
As I face the face beneath the face
...and peel back the mask of deception
I sense the stranger within
...and slowly turn to greet him
He has my features, but little else do I recognise.
Well, at first.
The rare opportunity to be one with your true self is a paradoxically
unsettling experience. Strangely, I feel content and relaxed without
my trigger-happy psychological defences, without the barriers I erect
to keep prying minds away.
Strangely, I feel as if I can like myself after all.
But another day, another deceit, the artifice I weave about myself
like a golden fleece...
It only takes me away from myself.
Outmoded perceptions, ritual/habitual patterns of thought... Delusion
has become my reality. The day-to-day 'I' having no conscious
recollection of me.
If I can't be honest with myself, how can I be honest with others?
The different 'me's shift in and out of focus, each trying to gain
control. My subconscious desires manipulate me into situations of
conflict where I'm a puppet in my own hands, an actor on a stage of my
construction echoing words devoid of meaning.
There are many ways to get what I want - whoever 'I' may be. If I
look helpless and lost, you'll take pity. If I smile a certain way,
you'll want to help. If I appear confused, you'll think it was all
your idea. I can be that lost puppy you never had.
Perhaps my addictive personality is badly in need of sensation. As I
look beneath the murky layers, I see the subconscious impulses that
move me to contest every last detail until you go away feeling
drained.
I can charm you if I have to.
I can even love you.
But all along, I never know what is game and what is real.