“Are we really happy here with this lonely game we
play? Looking for words to say. Searching but not finding understanding anyway.”
We’re lost in this Mask Parade.
I was singing this song the other day and inserted the Mask
Parade part. It is supposed to be Masquerade.
But isn’t this just so apropos?
I find that as I got out the door each day, I have to
remind myself of the mask I am wearing.
The
other day I found myself without my mask and was just running into the store
for a simple item. I did the Bazooka Joe
thing and pulled my shirt up over my mouth and nose
In this horrible day and age, I find that I am not embarrassed
by much of anything. I wear clothes for days;
my hair stands up all over the place and I’m sure I have bad breath. I noticed that more because of the mask. I haven’t worn makeup in I don’t know how long,
even if I bathe and dress up to go out.
I am looking forward to the day when I get up, take a
shower, put on a little eye liner, do my eyebrows and swathe on some lip
gloss. We shall go back to the living
and the time of personal hygiene pride.
I have been reading some really strange stuff lately. I read the three Little Women series. I read Anne of Green Gables. Of course, these are all freebies on-line.
I just picked up Lost Horizon from my library
upstairs and read that. If you haven’t
read this book, I highly suggest it. In
it a monk tells the protagonist, “Exhaustions of the passions is the beginning
of wisdom.” I asked myself, “what am I
passionate about?”
The dictionary explains “passion” as a feeling of love or
lust. It is an amorous feeling of
desire. I looked around the room I was
in and asked myself, “is there anything in the room that if I lost, I would be
very sad?” I couldn’t find anything in
that room except for my dog that I would feel lost without.
I am to the point in my life that I want rid of my
possessions. I have accumulated forty-eight
years of possessions. And now I am stuck
with my husband’s possessions as well.
And there is not one thing except the dog that I would just die without.
Later that evening, lost in thought, I wrote down, “There
once was a man who took my breath away, and then there was a man who gave my
breath back to me.” Which was more
valuable to my life?
Have you noticed that sometimes it is hard to breath with a
mask on? I have been watching “Grey’s
Anatomy” on Netflix. The masks that the
doctors wear are so familiar to me. Are
we getting used to this Mask Parade?
