The Light Loves the Masked
The night gathers, and with it comes the memory of that laugh — too loud, too long, a performance you hoped would hide the fact that you didn't understand the joke. You are convinced they saw through you.
That everyone knows you are pretending. But the light does not scan the room for impostors; it sees the one who is terrified of being found out and loves them anyway.
You came from the light, the place where it generates itself, long before you learned to wear a mask to fit in. The truth you fear is already plain to the one who sees in the dark.
You do not have to understand every joke to belong in the room.
Drawing from
Gospel of Thomas, John
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