Hidden behind a mask.

Shakespeare said: "All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players". That's to say, everyone is merely an actor passing through life.

Jac came to my house today (I give good directions okay!) and while talking, I realised how hidden someone is. Living behind a mask. Is it a noble and courageous thing or does it just show a lack of trust? How nice if there's a definite answer, but all I know is it makes me sad and I know Jac feels that it's sad too.

All these leads to something I was thinking about the other day. If the world's a stage and everyone are just actors on it, then how can we be sure that we really know someone? When we think we know someone, do we really know who they are or do we only know the mask they are wearing, the front they are letting us see? We don't really know who people are do we? We only know who they want us to know. Faces and masks, masks and faces. I think after a while, even each individual themselves gets confused between which is a mask, and which is the real face. Just more thinking about random stuff. So random that sometimes I don't even know how they pop into my head.

Today was hao wan hao wan! Little funny things happened here and there like how Jac came and just stood outside and not ring the doorbell and how quiet she was during dinner. I thought it was super funny and laughed at her when we got back to my room. She wrote down in her book that I laughed at her during dinner ogay! So now there's a permenant record of the bad things I do. Oh no!

Busy busy weeks ahead of me! But being busy is strangely satisfying most of the time! (: