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Old June 24th, 2005, 08:45 PM  
-Silence
...La De Dah!
 
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Name: Heather, Duh.
Join Date: March 29, 2004
Location: The Sunshine State.
Age: 29
Gender: Female
Blog Entries: 111
Default .....

You see me as still a child at heart, there's these blue eyes that are always shinning and always a smile plastered on my face. Yet somehow you see through this. My mask is too thin, I am starting to show through. So a new mask, a thicker one, one that will make it seem like there's never anything wrong. One that will give you a false view of me. Now it's time to paint my face on, make sure everything is in place--there can't be any room for errors because my life is at stake. I put long sleeves on I get cold, you know? There's nothing strange under those sleeves, I'm not trying to hide years of self abuse. I put on my bright eyes, gotta make sure that there isn't any wetness left. No that'll give everything away. Now's the time to glue the smile on, it has to be exactly in place. Every thing's done..I'm all fixed up and ready to perform.

So here I am, walking into the store, head held high and confidence flowing. Every thing's great, I walk to the back, put on an apron, have to make sure it doesn't slide my face at all. Nope, everything's still in place. So I walk up front, clock in, and make short silly conversation. "how are you's" and such and of course, "I'm great" like always.

An hour or so pass by, and I feel my mask thinning out, it can only stay for so long. All of a sudden, Walter, my manager asks me to go out to his car with him, help get some business cards. So I walk, still holding my head high, praying to anyone that'll listen that my mask won't fade away, not now, not when I need it the most. Walter's not a shy guy, we get to his car and he starts talking.."You're a great worker..." I only catch bits and pieces of what he's saying because I'm trying hard to cover up my mess. "I'm not trying to be nosy..." "With all sincerity..." "Here's my number, If you ever want to talk...."
"I'll always be around.."

A tear rolls down my cheek and quickly I wipe it away. I freeze, he's not supposed to see this, he's supposed to play along with my little act just like everyone else. He's supposed to watch my show. What he doesn't understand is that if I could talk, I wouldn't need a mask, I wouldn't need to keep pretending, and more importantly I wouldn't be a disaster waiting to happen. I need a thicker mask. More silence, more hiding.



“Some days even my lucky rocketship underpants won't help.”
-Calvin & Hobbes.
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