Epigraph

"Love takes off masks that we fear we cannot live without and know we cannot live within." ~James Arthur Baldwin

When writing, people seem to be able to hide problems and truth. Isn't it great to know that everyone has an escape? And for some, the pen is a relief to show readers something they're not. But can I or anyone else really hide from truth and fact? It doesn't seem very realistic until you have a pen in hand and paper in front of you when the mind gets fuzzy and your eyes glaze over to a far off dream of what you could be. James Baldwin points out that we will never be able to hide who we really are... yet i still have urges to be and write like someone I am not. And doesn't everyone have that problem? Whether Love removes our facades or something completely different, we still have this belief that we are something more than we lead on to and whether in English assignments or through the internet, this idea floats in our subconscious to be who we are not. I suppose we could refer this reoccuring phenomenon to dreams that we ourselves cannot recognize or comprehend often. Some say Love is to blame for lies and fables that we create and fool our readers with each time we sit down to write. Some say it's Pride. And because we concoct ideas to impress others or perhaps just ourselves, these written ideas that we blame our lies and mistakes upon, reveal us to the world. We are unwillingly showcasing our true colors we would not have been able to hide from those we care for to begin with. It is a curious human trait that takes hold of everyone at least once and when we are at the point of no return, we find that because of this, we learn who we are and where we stand. We take into consideration what we wished to become and what we now want to sculpt ourselves into with our writing. I realize that we are really like clay, we shape ourselves into what we choose to be and what we hope to be, and it is truly up to us to decide whether we turn ourselves into a masterpiece... or a constructed object waiting to flake and crack. So now, it's time to ask ourselves, are we going to be beautifully molded by the truth of our written fantasies? Or are we going to be deformed and crumbling, modeled by written lies and unrealistic hopes to be someone we could never be in the first place?