Not from my own courage, but as a result of a confluence of multiple events each one more painful than the next and with no end in sight, I have been stripped of all vestiges of my false-self.
With no protection comes crystal clear vision, though few want a report of what I see.
I’ve found that many I thought I knew, I never knew, as they require me to be as they need me to be. They scurry to help me find my old mask while holding fast to their own.
In times like these, while the learning comes so quickly, it all makes sense, but then again nothing does.
It seems “Need” trumps “Truth” to the many, consciously donning a mask again is too soul killing.