persona

We all carry illusions, images of people that we craft in our minds

We convince ourselves that they understand us, that we're not alone

We attach ourselves to these illusions

Believing that if someone understands us

Or is a part of us, then it's all worth it

The fog will clear and the way is open

It's overwhelming to face the truth of how eternally alone we all are

Life becomes a constant performance

Each smile, each word, an act

We adorn ourselves in masks, concealing our true selves from the world above