A Mask. A pale one I think. A very boring one at that. That is what I think it is. I cannot see. You can see. I cannot. Then there are masks I can see and you cannot. It is a cruel irony. Of fate, I think. You are the only one who cannot see, while the world watches on. But then again there have been people who have seen it. Hell, they have known it better than the world that saw it. But then again, those were not ordinary people. A mask. A perky one I think. A mask. A joyous one I think. A Mask. I dammed one I think. A mask. One for society to see. One for the family. One for my friends. Another for someone else I think. That is how I see me. A collection of faces. Each replaceable. Each changeable. A different one for a different time. Only a few people will see through. And even they cannot see through it. They guess, they infer. They employ a simple mathematical formula. Intersection. The qualities that are common to very face, they infer, belong to the real face. I know the ones that I have. It is a wonderful thing. Ironic too. You cannot share it with the world. They world will think then. This beats their purpose. All they see are masks. Different masks. Colored. Designed.For the purpose.