The Book of Faces connects countless sights, insights, and desires:
The images feature perfectly framed snaps.
The comments shout smiles and slaps.
The factions share fiction and facts.
The posts emote candid and fad.
The memes scream “Me! Me!”
The ads say “Ur incomplete.”
The news feeds unease.
The agenda wreaks.
The strength peels.
The sides kneel.
The minds free.
The evil flees.
The love heals.
The truth reveals.
The hope increases.
The change is sweeping.
The people begin believing.
The windows foster dreaming.
The separated explore teaming.
The Faces are no longer scheming.
The Book rewrites beyond meaning.
My blog is the realm where I most often open a watch window into myself. And since we’re record keeping, the following serves as my irrational rationale for keeping closed my window at The Book of Faces:
I dislike how I like the Likes. 👍
I hate how I want the Loves. ❤️
I despise how I desire the Wows. 😯
I abhor how I yearn the Laughs. 😂
I loathe who I start to become. 😡
I weep at what I seek to receive. 😢
So I’ve played the role of the irregular watcher instead of the often watched.
Because I have been unable to participate without feeding the selfish pieces of me, myself, and I.
So I ask me questions about myself, such as…
Am I jealous of people?
Of course, I have been many times, but it’s rather rare in my current state – especially because I’ve gathered the possessions and sampled the “success” – but found these matter minimal.
Am I concerned with fake connections?
I suppose it’s possible, but doubt its probability because I now pursue depth and meaning without pause.
Am I afraid of showing people myself?
Yes – because the watchers may reject me.
But what does rejection mean on social media?
Sometimes it’s a limited count = 👍+❤️+😯+😂
Other times it’s due to altered attitudes = 😡+😢
But it’s more than these rejection ratios because…
I detest how I withhold pieces of myself when navigating The Book of Faces.
Because I seem to restrain my complete voice when friends, family, and strangers share deep and differing opinions.
This self-containment isn’t because I’m fearful of what I believe, but because I do not want to divide others or myself.
I am not there to sell anyone.
I am not here to be sold.
So I’d prefer to first focus on the common denominators that unite our best selves.
Of course, I enjoy partaking in convos where varying and unique frameworks are exchanged – because this process is how complicated innerverses come to share one healthy universe.
But unless the keyboarders are skilled social surfers, people almost always get hurt.
The image for this post offers many of my face’s pages.
Except I do not feel the need to consistently channel my mugs through social conduits.
Yet I continue to be told that if I publish more content on all mediums, then I will become “more known.”
A well-intentioned friend replied to last week’s post stating my prose must be broadcast broader to help more people.
My response spoke to how we must all become antennas to transmit our original ideas inside this created place in which we all live and exist.
Translation = I believe what I offer here must be self-confirmed by others so they can amplify their own signal of significance.
Of course, I believe my message can help people – but it will only help those willing to accept it.
Except even after acceptance, the choice in change must occur.
So how can those with ears tuned to frequencies outside of themselves come to see their true best selves?
How can people know the deepest and darkest shades of themselves when they most often look to the shadows of others?
My goal with these words are to help you see yourself as you’ve always been. My goal is for you to remember:
YOU are who you’ve been waiting for.
I believe we are all encoded with this truth, but we forget.
This is why I wrote the words circling the concept of Unbecoming Forgotten.
Maybe I am simply remembering before you – so I am sharing my good news – and then I am choosing to believe that you will view with eyes wide open – and choose to embrace the truth you’ve always known.
But really though… how can I open your watch window?
Don’t you need to open your own window into yourself?
Otherwise, I suppose I’d be breaking and entering if I unlocked your box, peered inside, and forced you to look outside sans invite?
So what would it take for you to expose your real deal faces?
I often wonder if most people are posing with faux real faces.
Thumbs up here! 👍
Love what you’re doing there! ❤️
Share everywhere! 🔗
Hmm, maybe I’m proposing quite the conundrum considering I am asking others to unmask – yet all the while I am tasking myself to withhold dividing opinions while navigating The Book of Faces.
Remember: I want to first connect inside our common denominators.
Otherwise: We will forget everything we share as we fight over our multi-level mass marketed fears.
Alas: I can become lost me when my lens is adjusted by anything outside of myself.
I cannot become more known by being someone I am not.
All three seem reasonable – except I do not feel such things can be forced so they must come to be without compromising my best self.
But $#@†! What about you?
Of course, I don’t have your answers.
Straight up, I just believe I know who I am.
I’m accepting all of the creases on my pages and faces.
I’m finally writing my own book and not another’s.
And I want you to experience the same sense of being – the same sense of knowing – the same sense of your best self.
But you must first wash away your wishy washy ways – and dissolve your facades – because that’s how we’ll share the same page, and write a new book together.
Are you in?