It’s fun to pretend…
…some of the time.
I am tired of existing as two people, of wearing masks, of keeping up appearances. I want to wake up in the morning and not have to think about the facade that I need to erect in order to get through the day in my job. Because as who I am, my job is out of reach, the system would not tolerate it, nor would I be able to fulfil my duties.
It feels like switching out of myself and into an inferior photocopy that resembles my normal self, but devoid of the colours, intricacies and distinctions that I hold dear in myself and that give me value as a person. A sanitised, featureless version of myself who I am not particularly fond of.
And while I wear this copy of myself, my honest self sits in the wardrobe and starts to get stiff and show signs of neglect, so when I slip back into it, there is a hardened feeling in the joints and there is need of a good, long stretch.
I need to find somewhere that is looking for me, and not just a husk that I can fill.