No one hears the ticks. They just blur into the quotidienne white noise that floats udner the air. No one can feel the tension. No one can know. Understand. Hold your breath. Wait for the rhythm to slow, inhale, repeat. Continue until it doesn't feel anymore.
Perform yourself how you want. They can touch your mask, but not your essence. Without a barrier the critics words resound with shrill pains, stinging years after. Attack. Run. Run back inside yourself. Remember why you stay there. Find your comfort, stop apologizing and be.
There will always be one, one for you.
Will it matter? It matters. Remove. Remove everything that you feel has some sort of hold on being. Who you think you are, who you want to be, who you wanted to be, who you were and can never go back to. Run. Run the water over yourself and cry so you can no longer hear. Burn everything until it's untraceable. Reinvent, stage a differnet play. Even if you are the one person standing in the back, amongst a crowd of laughter stand strong. Even if they're laughing at you, play your role. Play the best damn role you have and hold on to it. Steadfast, for if you falter, you have already diminished. The you you were, is no more.
Once broken, no amount of repair will replenish the various voids and cracks. Your whole person is disembled. You become a ghost to yourself; only to return in glimpses of memory and manerisms. You lose.
And even then...It's not the same.
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