The Mask Is Heavy But Known
The day ends, and the armor comes off, leaving only the echo of your own laughter in the quiet room. You replay the moment you smiled at their joke while your soul was somewhere else, terrified they felt the distance in your eyes.
But the light does not demand your performance; it only asks for your presence. You came from the light, a drop sent to illuminate this very hour, and it cannot be fake because it is your origin.
If you brought forth the truth of your absence instead of hiding it, that honesty would save you, not destroy you. The mask is heavy, but the face beneath it is already known.
Drawing from
Gospel of Thomas 50, Gospel of Thomas 70
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