Thursday, June 16, 2005
Masked Crusader
My Response to this person's post
Did you do Shakespear's Much Ado About Nothing? Well I do feel what you have said and in the asian society we grew up in, it is important not to 'lose face'.
I feel however, that masks are important in one's life. It is a layer, an abstraction if you must of the person behind the mask. It is a form of interface that we choose to interact with people. Without which, the firewall between them and the real fragile soul behind the mask would be lose and the inner most personal thoughts and feelings revealed.
It is when one chooses to have multiple masks spun within a web of lies and trickery that one has to be careful. Living in a country that has the world's must poisonous spider, I am often surprised that when I glaze out my window, when the sun and winds conspire, I see the faint glimmer of a strand of thread that a spider has wooven and wonder if it somehow leads to my demise. Such intricity, such fragality.
I wonder if anoybody, even my friends and family truly know me. What would my mum think of me if she could she read my blog, if she could and would she like what she read. But then again, blogs are another abstraction of one's thoughts.
Did you do Shakespear's Much Ado About Nothing? Well I do feel what you have said and in the asian society we grew up in, it is important not to 'lose face'.
I feel however, that masks are important in one's life. It is a layer, an abstraction if you must of the person behind the mask. It is a form of interface that we choose to interact with people. Without which, the firewall between them and the real fragile soul behind the mask would be lose and the inner most personal thoughts and feelings revealed.
It is when one chooses to have multiple masks spun within a web of lies and trickery that one has to be careful. Living in a country that has the world's must poisonous spider, I am often surprised that when I glaze out my window, when the sun and winds conspire, I see the faint glimmer of a strand of thread that a spider has wooven and wonder if it somehow leads to my demise. Such intricity, such fragality.
I wonder if anoybody, even my friends and family truly know me. What would my mum think of me if she could she read my blog, if she could and would she like what she read. But then again, blogs are another abstraction of one's thoughts.
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