So strange
That moment
When you realize
You never lived at all
It was a life for sure
But what was it all about?
Strutting on life’s stage
All sound and fury
Yet signifying ‘not nothing’
Rather lived as expectation
Being what you thought
You should be
But what do I want to be?
Who am I really?
I’ve masks upon masks
So deep, I forget
Which might be the real me
I begin to peel
Layer after sticky layer
I peel so deep
It really hurts
And even now I’m unsure
If I’ve reached the core
Or, am confused myself
As to where my skin
Ends and really begins
Have I reached my true insides?
Is that why I’m feeling sore?
I shed each skin
And then begin
To grow another
So where is my core?
My true inner being
Beyond the skin
Beyond the bone
Flowing like blood
Beyond my cells
Maybe somewhere else?
Maybe not within?
Deep stuff. Maybe there is no centre. Perhaps that’s one of the keys… To try to replicate an egoic perspective may be doomed to repeat the process. Maybe the journey is the other way…
I begin to think that…