Sometimes I wonder . . .
Sometimes I wonder if there was ever really a face to the person behind the masks. Sometimes I wonder if the person forgets that he is wearing masks, like people wearing glasses sometimes forget. Sometimes I wonder if the person remembers that he is an independent entity apart from his masks. Sometimes I wonder if this person is able to separate himself from his masks . . .
I've blogged for so long now that it has itself become a mask - one through which I allow people who I've never met become my friends, one through which I let strangers glimpse some of my most personal thoughts and memories, and one through which I let the world read my secrets. Reflecting on this blog, it has seldom been me at my least restrained. More often than not, my posts are mere amplifications of my many masks.
Can I even dissociate myself from the masks I wear? Is there Aek without a love of biology, languages, and music; without medicine; without desire to help; without inner sexual conflicts; without confusion; without secrets embedded deep inside? Am I these things, or are they me, or is it both?
As children, the mind is amorphous and does many things - all things - simultaneously. As we age and become adults, the mind solidifies onto certain paths, narrowing options while enforcing those paths. And so I wonder, has parts of me been slowly chipped away by time and age, such that all that's left are the parts of me still attached to my masks? What is Aek when he's not a med student? What is Aek when he's still not sure if he's bi/gay/other? What is Aek behind the masks . . . behind that name?
Though it may not seem like it, though I may not always say it . . . there is still much vulnerability and insecurity to the face behind the masks. I'm still waiting for someone to take them off and look me in the face.