everything is performance
mourning the person I used to be, back when I felt all eyes on me
Oh, to wake up in the morning and not feel like whatever outfit you put on has to make some sort of statement. Of course, you can’t risk repeating an outfit too often, lest you risk getting caught in the act by your anonymous audience.
You’re getting pizza with friends later so make sure it’s something cute yet subtle, with just a touch of effortless, natural makeup in case you-know-who happens to get a glance of you through the ‘gram. And wear the good shoes, the ones with a bit of a heel, even though you know you have to walk uphill. I know they’ll leave you with a blister but you can’t risk not getting the lift where you need it. Don’t get caught listening to sad music either today, even though you can’t help yourself. All your friends will be able to see it on your Spotify, and your definition of who constitutes as a “friend” is wide these days.
Make sure your pictures always have plenty of people in them—a combination of regulars along with a rotation of new faces. It’ll show you’re capable of deep connections but always open to make new friends, because in your head you’re everyone’s best friend. This is how you protect yourself, this way you won’t get left behind. Because that’s what this is all about at the end of the day, finding endless ways to fill yourself so you never have to deal with the emptiness inside. You’ve done such a good job at hiding it, you’ve almost convinced yourself it isn’t there. You’ve learned to perform so well for indifferent eyes that you’ve almost forgotten that you’re playing a part.
But smile because the day isn’t over yet. You still have to come up with a clever caption, otherwise what was it all for? How are you going to convince you-know-who into believing that you’re getting on with this caged existence? When no one’s looking, do you even recognize the reflection that stares back at you in the mirror? You don’t know it now but if you keep living like this, one day you’ll be left picking up the shards by yourself.
I used to mourn my youth all the time, but now when I look back I’m grateful to have shred so many past versions of myself. It’s easy to delude yourself into thinking that you can live for other people, curating your life around their conditional validation in the endless pursuit of the “perfect” life. But what if it’s really just the opposite? And as much as I can try to convince you that you already have everything you need, if only you tilted your head gently, you won’t believe me until you see it for yourself.
That breaking old patterns feels like you’re breaking every bone in your body, over and over again, begging your brain to rewire itself correctly every time. And how lonely it feels once it finally does, because you’re no longer the same and the world around you hasn’t changed. Surrounded by a sea of people at a party, all you can do is stare out at the horizon and wonder if they’ve noticed the cracks in the glass start to take form.
