Musings of the mind

I miss my childhood: the ignorant bliss, the innocence, the two-dimensional me.

I know I've had my fair share of complaining about my 'lost innocence', but I genuinely feel a sense of loss. Sure, I used to be described as 'sensitive', the negative adjective, but that's better than this. I guess got sick of it. Sick of being the 'sensitive' one who burst into tears or hid behind her mother's skirts at the first sign of pain. So I learned, I learned to harden my heart and mind to numbness. It's a barrier to getting hurt. One doesn't feel pain if one doesn't feel at all. It's a defence mechanism.

Put on a tough face, act like it's fine. Pretend like you don't see what you do because in all likelihood, it is only in your mind. It's a skill, to be able to fabricate your own reality. Then again, all are born with an imagination, the ability to make-believe. Child's play.

So I don't see why it's not working. Insecurities are forever creeping in, threatening to destroy the tower I've built. A tower of feigned confidence.

But for now, the castle holds its ground. It's like a switch that automatically switches on when people are around. Reflex. But like all reactions, it's temporary. When people leave, silence follows, and the weight returns. It never left, you just pretended for that period of time, so others wouldn't see the strain beneath the smile. Then again, there was no strain, was there? In the moment? Because after years of practice, that's how good you can get at playing the part.

My eyelids are actually closing on me. This post probably makes no sense whatsoever. It's just patches of thought. Nothing. I'm sure I'll be fine by tomorrow. After a night's slumber. Besides, these unread words will drift into nothingness anyway, too insignificant to remain in even the author's memory.

Me.