RealPosted: July 11, 2015
What is “real”?
Are the organic, free-range thoughts I got at Trader Joe’s more “real” than the genetically modified, preservative packed thoughts I got from Walmarts?
Are my smiles, my words, my actions just an affectation? An attempt to wear the Emperor’s clothes?
Getting real is a virtue, until it is not. Until it is too uncomfortable. Too divulgent. Until being real breaks the social norms of no tears, no fears, no anger. Professing love or lust or hate.
We wear our mental Spanks to cover up the unsightly bulges we’re ashamed for anyone to see. We look in the mirror and tell ourselves “sure, they’re uncomfortable to wear, but, damn, they make me look good.”
And it becomes our uniform.