No Secrets

There are no more secrets.

I feel so alienated.

I feel so empty.

I feel trapped.

There doesn’t seem to be anything that I truly want or need. 

There is nothing to desire, nothing to hope for.

Yet, I am unsatisfied. 

I lust for acknowledgment, and no one is fooled otherwise. 

There are no more secrets.

Everyone seems so omniscient. But they don’t actually know anything.

I talk to no one, yet everyone knows exactly what I am thinking. 

But they don’t care. 

They wouldn’t like my thoughts if I shared them. 

They don’t understand.

I feel so disconnected.

We are all separated from our world, so hopelessly detached from reality.

We are zombies plodding on blind ahead.

But everyone believes that they can see.

Everyone is Woke, yet they are drowning in there own self-absorbed comas. 

They all hold the key to some great esoteric truth, though they remain torpid in most every other faculty demanding their immediate attention. 

But somehow they know all about me!

How?

They barely even know who they are.

I don’t even know who they are, like a kid embracing a gaiety mascot at a cartoon theme park. 

Still, there are no more secrets.

I am isolated, and I am naked.

I put up walls, but they can see right through.

I have no armor.

I’m a snowflake.

No! I’m angry and I don’t care.

It is all a façade…

I hide away, ensconced by my fantasy realm where I can be who I want to be.

Here I can be free.

Out there I am an introvert, but here I am charismatic, and bold and brave.

Out there I am ignorant and uncultured, loud and brazen, but here I can be intelligent and tactful.

Here I can be anything, and nothing. 

No one can hurt me.

But that is a beautiful lie.

In here they say horrible things, because they know who I really am—because there are no secrets.

In here the mask is also a double-edged sword.

How can they know so much?

How do they get in to my head?

How do they see everything: My pain, my phobias, my wonders, my dreams, and even my likes?

I stay behind a transparent veil. 

There are no more secrets.

Everything that is on my mind, they can see.

How can they know this?

How can I have so many friends, yet still be so alone?

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