Alone
I am alone as I came to this world, alone writing these lines. Loneliness is the prerequisite of madness.
Every thought I have simply comes and goes away without any validation or reproach from others, this is an internal monologue without any external rules or boundaries to keep me within the accepted parameters of sanity.
When I am alone it is the time to know myself, my weaknesses, my fears, there are no pretentions. I don't have to act and show people what I think they want to see of me; I don't have to show anything; being honest with myself is the most difficult part; not because it is hard, but because I get used to play my personas in front of society and when I am by myself I keep doing it as a habit. Every aspect of me is just a robotic reaction. Repetition, encouragement and reprimands create these cardboard personalities that I end up wearing and that I consider to be myself.
But when I have a chance to take them off and observe them, I realize how idiotic they are, how fake, how death.
When I strip off those skins and I contemplate my internal nature, a big void appears and that void, I suspect, is what makes some people scared to be alone. We are forced to be confronted with the fact that we are not what we pretend we are and in the company of others we forget it.
Without my habits and personas to protect me I realize that I am empty; I've been wearing those masks for so long that I don't know who is behind them anymore.
