I roam around this world with all my decoys. The people i met loved me, for they thought those masks are the real me. Or else that love was their act.
Then one day I walked under the lushness and shade of the green nature, without any of my second skins. People shied away from me as from a taboo. They saw me for what I actually is. They saw the raw ugliness. My skin blistered under those stares. They once advised me to live in reality. And when I show them the reality, they get scared. Paradox...
Or, are they scared of themselves? Do they saw themselves in me? Do my ugliness reminds them of what resides in them? Are they running away from their own realities? They ran, so they could check on their masks and be sure that those strings are tight. And to be sure that their acts are not disturbed and no one could see the Caliban in them. So they could live in their utopia with their pretty faces and boast about their fake realities. And when someone actually be real, they could crucifix them and call those martyrs a fraud.
And after a fall they will make monuments for those martyrs and worship them.Thus they could sabotage those real models by corrupting their ideals and faking them according to their unreal world. Realities will get violated and decoyed as sins, so no one will dare to show what's real anymore.
When would these warring species could stop fighting among themselves and acquire the courage to fight the falseness in their souls? When would they dare to break the cocoon of those fake moralities and show themselves in the glaring sun? When would they start telling the truth? When would they....
