Those monsters are still boiling in the crucible.

They drag me back, drive me, set fire to every fibre of my being and give false notions about my identity.

Those masks are not me, but everybody thinks so. A face is a lifelong possession, but it is concealed behind the different masks I don every day. Sadly, it is not out of choice, like I choose apparel.

Authenticity struggles to liberate itself – in fact, struggles to find its identity, unable to separate itself from the cauldron. It does not like getting vaporised, hence, plays hard to crystallise.

I hate Emotions….


6 thoughts on “Emotions

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