Monday, April 26, 2010

Fake It Till You Make It

Every day I wake up and I look at myself in the mirror. My eyes are always blue-grey, my hair is always golden brown, and my skin is always peachy pale. Every day, I look the same. I feel the same. I breathe the same. I am the same, except for one thing. Each day when I prepare myself to face the world, I have to tighten the bolts to my fake smile a little tighter.
There is no reason for me to confess my heart’s fallacies to the world. Nor should I have to explain that I am just as human as everyone else. But for myself, for my own sake, I have lost my joy to the age of my mind. Stress has ticked away on my internal clock, counting down the days to the complete elimination of my innocence. With each second stoke, I feel my oblivious state of mind slipping further and further into its depths, never to be seen again. The reality presses against my eye sockets begging to be part of me. My mental immune system weakens daily against its persistent begging. Soon, reality will be my only consideration.
As I pack my bags to begin my adventure into adulthood, I stop to dust off the mementos of my childhood- my true innocence. The band-aid I was given when I realized that the world wasn’t full of loving people who want to love and be loved, my broken heart from my acknowledgement of the opposite sex, my bruises from my disobedience, my golden stars for my participation in life’s silly games, they all find their way to my side. I cannot help but think, “If that girl knew what she was traveling towards, would she stop dead in her tracks? Would she turn and run for shelter in her mother’s arms?” I honestly believe she would press on.
She did press on, I always will. Reality cannot control my future. Reality cannot control my dreams. Reality exists within itself and within itself alone. Reality is palpable and authentic, unlike myself. I am fake. I am a simulation of life- one who embraces not the opportunities that present themselves. Why would reality like to crash the party of the fakes?
Every day I face the same world the same way. Nothing ever changes and I hate it that way. I hate that I have allowed reality to make my heart a stone. I hate that I have allowed it to press into my eye sockets and rule my thoughts. I find it an injustice to my innocence, that it was bested my reality. I sure thought it was stronger.

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