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When the Mask Comes Off

by rich51bruhh

I spend my day wearing a mask. Not the cloth mask I am required to wear in each place of business I visit, but the kind that everyone sees and reacts to. The kind the people look at and don’t think much of. The kind that, if you had to comment on, you’d say “Ah he seems happy. He probably has his head on his shoulders.” That mask.

When I wear this mask, I can comfortably go into public and say I am one of them. Those people that got their head on their shoulders. Those people that have a great life at home and feel content with themselves. Those people that have things to look forward to. But at night its different.

At night, the mask doesn’t matter. There is no one to fool, because I know what lies behind the mask. I know that behind that mask is emptiness. I know the person behind the mask is lonely, and his loneliness makes his life miserable. His loneliness is killing him and no one even knows it.

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