The man perpetually shuffled through life, swayed by winds of dissent and dissatisfaction, running from himself. Moving not towards anything of substance, but seeking to distance himself from that which lay dormant within.. Every day a parody of the one before, losing sight of where the fucking joke began, maybe yesterday, possibly before his conception, did it even matter? Desperately caulking the wounds and orifices of his spirit, to prevent inevitable fragmentation. Shuffling through faceless crowds, under the starless skies, breathing the tainted air. Fearing Death and Completely Alone. Despite all of this, he was content insofar as his prescription of apathy and indifference never ran low

Until…

One day, a day that failed to stand out in comparison to the seemingly infinite wake/sleep cycles of a routine and monotonous existence that preceded it, a voice spoke from within and said

“Take off the mask my love.” The warmth and tranquility of the message reverberated all throughout his body, a smidgen of vitality coursed through his veins. He stopped in the middle of his walk home and then, yet again the voice said “Take off the mask my love”. This time with a slight tone of urgency.

“What mask?” he wondered to himself, baffled at the unexpectedness of the encounter. Once again

“Take off the mask my love, you are much more than you pretend to be.”

He sat down on the curb and gazed inquisitively at the world that surrounded him, looking at all the people who walked by, spending their days in the same fashion he had always spent his. For the first time in his life, aware of what modern existence has become… a costume party where everyone is so intoxicated they’ve forgotten they’re in character.

He brought his hand to his face, and suddenly his skin transformed into rigid plastic, cold and lifeless. He reached around to the back of his head and felt an elastic strap tightly secured around the back of his skull.

“Who would I be if I took this mask off? What would I be?” He looked up once again, and through the eyeholes of his mask, saw something unsettling. Nearly every person walking down that god forsaken side street was wearing a mask, each one with a different message on its forehead.

One man walked by in a business suit, carrying a briefcase, engrossed in a phone conversation, his mask said “I am important”

Another man, sprawled out on a cardboard matress spanging for change also wore a mask, it read “I am a failure”

He ran home, and upon entering his apartment, looked for the nearest mirror he could find. The man’s mask said “I am not enough”

Dumbfounded at the events of the day, he sat down on his couch and held his hand to the elastic strap that kept him attached to his fraudulent sense of identity. Realizing the futility of the many endeavors he had always held so dear. Recognizing how he had lived for so long, afraid of being seen without the protection of his facade.

He sat there for a few moments, his entire life story replaying in his mind’s eye.

“Could it really all have been an illusion? Could I really have been playing a show this entire time?” he wondered. He knew the answer, but was afraid to accept it. An anger roared inside of him, more passionate than anything he’d ever experienced in his life. Some ungodly beast arose from a deep ancient slumber within his spirit. And in one moment, with a swift tug on the band wrapped around his skull, he ripped the mask off. Suspended in a feeling composed of equal parts uncertainty and curiosity, he watched the mask fall to the floor.

The mask gently landed on the floor, bouncing once around his feet before coming to a halt. He lifted his hands up towards his face to see what was left, and all he found was a void. He ran back to the mirror to see what had become of him, and he gazed into the emptiness that had occupied the space once concealed by his mask. After a few deep breaths, he noticed something strange happening. A small vine began to sprout from within the emptiness, growing quickly and eventually blossoming into an alluring hydrangea. Suddenly more flowers spawned from the emptiness, exquisite roses of red and white, golden sunflowers, and purple marigolds. Then two bluebirds came flying out of the black hole, singing the most beautiful songs he’d ever heard. He turned around to look at his apartment but nothing was left of it, he was suspended in a void. He looked down to see where his feet and hands were but nothing of his body remained, he was suspended in his own awareness of all that was arising from the emptiness. Mountains and forests sprung out of the ether, and wolves danced among the evergreens. Stars exploded in multicolored supernovas, he saw colors he’d never dreamt of in his entire life. He saw ancient cities erected under a mahogany sunset, and watched as two lovers lay on a grassy hill watching the milky way. He saw the primordial fire from which existence spawned, he saw all of creation for the transcendental piece of divine music that it is. He watched his father standing next to doctors in the delivery room, as his mother held his infant self in her tender loving care. He watched himself laying on a similar hospital bed, surrounded by people he hasn’t met yet, frail, fragile, and feeble, as he takes his last breath.

The man saw everything there was to see, and then some.

“Who am I?” he questioned “What am I?”

The voice appeared once again

“Can’t you see my love? You are all of it! We’ve been playing hide and seek for a long time friend, a long long time. Don’t you remember? Remember when you pretended to be the man in the business suit on the phone? Remember when you pretended to be the girl reading on the subway? Remember when you pretended to be the person reading this sentence? Remember when you pretended to be the person sitting next to you at that coffee shop? Don’t you remember?”

The man remembered, but one question lingered

“Who are you?” he asked

The voice laughed with the warmth and compassion of a thousand suns

“Well here’s the funny thing, I’m you, and you are me. You see, when you take of the mask, when you zoom out for a moment and see all of creation miraculously unfold, there is no such thing as you or I, there just is.”

So, my dear reader, I conclude with a simple suggestion, not a demand, not an obligation, not a request, just a suggestion from one bit of stardust to another

Take Off The Mask My Love

Gate Gate Paragate Parasamgate Bodhi Svaha

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