Beneath The Suit


The Earth is like a stage. Life is the title of the 'play'. We are the actors and actresses. The only major difference is that we don't know the script and there is no second take or rehearsals in this play.

Its a masquerade. What's real on this stage? The physiques? The costumes? or The props?

All of them are but what's not entirely real? The character in its role-play.

Once the make up and costumes are shredded... There is nothing but you, the mirror and an empty room with nakedness... That is real.

No one can be as real as when they are with themself but that, is not entirely true... Sometimes when the acting sinks deep into one's soul, it becomes a kind of nature... Discreetly known as sedating...

What is there under this suit of epidermis?

Something that only its owner know of.