Faux

The attitudes I see in my generation, and how I feel about them.

I see mile wide grins, but no actual happiness. I see text messages exclaiming much love to that "certain someone," yet no true love. I hear apologies, yet see no signs of genuine remorse. I hear about their dreams, yet see no real ambition.

Would it hurt for any of us to be real? To be true to ourselves, and to others, just once? Why must we hide who we are from each other, offering others only a glimpse into our daily lives? Usually, said glimpse is of our accomplishments and goals for our futures, never of the magnitude of the blood sweat and tears it took us to get there. Why is there such harm in confirming what everyone else already knows; that we're only mere mortals?

I'll tell you why. We expect to be stepped on, to be beaten to a pulp in a heartbeat. Deep within ourselves, we recognize that we aren't as invincible as we project, and that secretly petrifies us. To let another see us in such a vulnerable position would be an open invitation for them to trod upon that semblance of success, to discourage the existence of the realms of our imaginations where we are ultimately superior. To knock us down several pegs in a fit of jealousy with a stab to the heart, the abrased pin cushion it's become. We all secretly loathe our true selves, and do all we can to deny our personas. 

And what for? Do we ever truly fool another while on these missions of disguise? Getting drunk in a fit of rage certainly does nothing for this act of yours, nor does getting intimate with the bad boy licking his lips at you in the halls. They're called "boys" for a reason; why go for the moldy apple on the ground when you can reach so much higher to the top of the tree? Next thing you know, you're spending hours pondering whether or not he loves you, silently kicking yourself for letting him have it all, because you're fully aware. He doesn't, and he never did. Of course, you'd never be able to admit that you were at fault for actually falling for his pathetic lustful ploy.

Instead, you see it fit to blame those who care to actually ask questions. "He loved me, how dare you suggest otherwise." "We were meant for each other, you jealous b***h." "Don't tell me how to live, you aren't my mother. Even she has no business breathing down my neck. I refuse to let her hold me on a leash." Because you have it all together, don't you? Attempting to drown your sorrows in the undertoe of Jack Daniels only does so much for you. Before you know it, you awaken the next morning remembering every painstaking detail of why you've been so upset, aside from how you got such a horrendous migraine. You're back where you started, plus one hard blow to your sanity. All of this, because you undoubtedly had all the answers.

To your fellow acquaintances, not a hair appears out of place. You appear rather smug, even while dying inside, thinking you've mastered this art of cunning trickery and deceit.

 I'll tell you what honey, you aren't even close. 

Preferences

§

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

0

-

=

Backspace

Tab

q

w

e

r

t

y

u

i

o

p

[

]

Return

capslock

a

s

d

f

g

h

j

k

l

;

'

shift

`

z

x

c

v

b

n

m

,

.

/

shift

English

Deutsch

Español

Français

Italiano

Português

Русский

alt

alt

Preferences

Reviews

[MandaBear]

Fantastic story

[Luca]

Wow. This definitely projects what's seen in society. People drowning their sorrows in liquor, lies all over the place. I really think you did well expressing how you felt about society, or at least what you've seen, but in a way that did not leave much to the imagination but made you think. Fantastic story, ma'am.

[Tiffany S]

Thank you :) I've had so many friends who've gone down this path, it's an issue close to my heart,