“So, what’s the brand of your Mask?” – a more Philosophical angle, providing this commercial and theoretical concept with some, uhm, ’emotional depth’.. -by Mia du Bois

“So, what’s the brand of your Mask?” – a more Philosophical angle, providing this commercial and theoretical concept with some, uhm, ’emotional depth’.. -by Mia du Bois


“So, what’s the brand of your mask?” 


We live in a truly plastic world.  A world where you are judged according to the brand of the mask you wear every day to hide The True You from the rest of the world.  We are trained like soldiers, commanded like puppets since the day we first saw the light of this earth to keep facing the world through the masks we were born with, the costumes we are forced to wear.  We raise our glasses in pretentious delight for a toast with people we hardly know to celebrate the fact that we have so far succeeded in living a life facing the world with the right branded mask – without once looking away from the crowd to take a breath of the uncontaminated air surrounding your fabricated smile.  Like marionettes on a string, we mechanically meet people in public places, wearing our most expensive mask, branded by our favourite designer to take part in conversations and formulate sentences we believe others want to hear.  We choose the brand of our mask, the designs and materials, the price of the labels according to the season, the latest trends and tendencies – to impress those who are in any case too focussed on keeping up their own disguise to care about ours.  


In their fabricated world, they went on their first date.   As he usually does, he asked her to tell him about herself.

She did not say the following.


Who am I? Some days I’m funny, others I’m not. I live, I love, I laugh, I cry. What you see is only half of what I am.  I have the ability to manufacture a hundred different faces, only a part of me is what I’ll show you now.   You see, my hands are tied to these plastic cups, I am glued to this artificial chair and my designer mask is glistering so brightly in the sunlight that it keeps you from noticing the loneliness in my eyes. I choose to display a fraction of my true self.  As I am sitting here, staring hesitantly into your dark eyes peeping through the holes in your Armani mask, I am telling you with a slight smile- This is not the truth of me.  You don’t know me.  You never will. Because I am an expert in choosing my mask:  never allowing you to peek too far behind it… for then you’ll perhaps catch a glimpse of the Made in China print on the inside of my Prada facade.  I will raise this plastic cup and produce a phoney laugh with you, leaning back against my stool while loosening my chemically bleached hair, only wishing to shout at you in silence from within:    “If you don’t like my words, don’t listen. If you don’t like my appearance, don’t look. If you don’t like my actions, turn your head.  For In a world where I can supposedly be anything… I’m dying behind this damn mask just to be myself…” 

But he said, nice mask, and she was content. 


About kieks

Who am I...? well, firstly, at 22 it's still not so easy to answer this supposedly simple question. I'm a different person today than I was a year, or even 6 months ago. Maybe tomorrow I fall in love, meet a new friend, be part of a miracle, experience a tradegy or listen to an inspirational song and see things differently than I do today... But at this moment in time, in a nutshell I would say that I'm completely content. What can you say about yourself that would make you more special, or any different than the person sitting next to you, except for your height, hair colour and shoe size..what makes ME different? extraordinary? unusual? exceptional? The answer lies deep, deep down to the furthest and yet unreached bottom of my soul - a place still waiting to be fully discovered, explored and exploited... the quest to find that piece of extraodinariness is a long and tough yourney of its own, for some (better) days the answer floats up to the surface and glows for a while in the life's sunlight...other days that same glistering confidence of yesterday seems to sink away to a place where it's light is almost impossible to see...About myself? Who am I? I am the girl who, inspite of stormy seas, believes that, by letting your extraordinariness float on the surface you see the light reflect on the faces of those who look at you...

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