Real

The problem with reinvention is that eventually you get tired of the improved you.  You can possibly fool the new people in your life into thinking you are this fresh face.  This smiling evolved goody goody.  But your body remembers.  Your molecules and cells are all still assembled the way they were before.  You can go years living the reinvention.  The mask won’t slip until one day you look around and don’t recognize a single person or place.  And everything you were so quick to escape and shed from your personality you pangfully miss.  Even the seedy shit that used to make you sick.  At least it was you.  And even with all the good intentioned pretending, you were unable to eradicate all that you thought you wanted to change.  It is all there, clawing at your insides like some imprisoned alien baby.  Do you let out the neglected, somewhat destructive impulses, or do you staple your mask on tighter?  Will you ever successfully morph into the dazzling Donald Draper, or will Dick Whitman eventually slink his way out and take his rightful place as your honest and raw identity.

 

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