Often the pretext but what about truth?

We easily shed off this mask we put on, only to slip into another. At the end of the day, when we take them all off, is there even a face to call our own?

Then again, who is brave enough to take on this faceless ghoul we call ourselves, to love and to hold, to be with them?

Even when we all know deep down, we are all one and the same; we look for the masks that we grow to love, as well as those upon others. Just as Harrison Morgan phrased it, 'she loves who she thinks you are'.

Then again I ask, is it necessary to find out what's underneath the masks? to be so anal about it all?

On a lighter note, maybe masks aren't so bad after all. They ease you into knowing people. Down the line, when that ghoul appears and is not what you can handle, its then you know, its time to move on.