Doing things.

There is another person inside of me.

This person is pretty awesome.

This person is confident and outspoken and outgoing and happy. This person wants to wear pretty dresses and get tattoos and be loud in public and run around in circles for no good reason. This person has a bright vision for her life and for her future.

This person is being suppressed.

Occasionally I let her out to dream. I let her write stories, or draw silly whimsical things that I don't show anyone. I let her get hyper when listening to upbeat music, and sing along and dance around, as long as nobody is around. I let her get excited about things. She will see a glimpse of a music video staged as a masquerade - she has always loved the idea of masquerade balls, ever since she heard the Phantom of the Opera soundtrack; she loves the elaborate gowns and the anonymity; she has a thing for masks and just the concept of masks - and start imagining the perfect mask for herself. She starts doodling it and picking colors and contemplating making it. She's made masks before, after all. It wouldn't be hard. It would be fun.

Then I shut her in again. That's enough for today. Back to the real world.

I live a careful, contained life.

I do not actually think I am two people, obviously. But I feel like I'm making it that way. One of me is the one who wants to do things. The other is the one who is protecting herself from..living. From happiness. From disappointment?

Fuck this bullshit.

Olivia

PS. After I wrote this post, I sat around for a while. Then I went and dug out my clay. I'm going to make a fucking mask. Even if I never wear it, I will have it. That will make me happy.