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Sophie wonders if the ancestors are pleased with her choices in life. Not that she would ever go back and unravel any of her lessons.

 
“See, what people don’t get is how impermanent this mask thing is because in a certain light it makes you feel beautiful. So beautiful you start thinking you can just ignore the parts of you that don’t shine so bright. The parts you hide and only pull out in the shadows of new moons. You tell yourself the mask is just a reference point. A goal to strive towards while you sort it all out. Something to keep your public pleased when you’re a mess struggling with the truth of your existence. The mask is convenient like that, a surface full of generalities. Things that aren’t so hard to say out loud. The pillows piled high on the head board for everybody’s comfort. But it’s in the details, the grit and stardust underneath the covers that really matter. That shit constantly falling through your finger tips when you try to grab ahold of yourself and make sense of your life. The pieces of you you can’t never manage to pick up, and at the same time you can’t let ’em go or fling ’em far enough off somewhere so you can finally be only what you want to be. That’s how we even got to wearing masks in the first place. The mask is handy in that way. You can swap it out anytime, and sometimes you have to. For survival. But even then you still can’t forget it’s purely artificial. Can’t start pretending you had some sort of awakening every time you put your new face on. That’s that tragic misstep. Right there. That’s it right there. The root of all this suffering. And don’t nobody wanna talk about it. Just keep on insisting that their mask is their soul, and then wanting to be scared when they realize that the cost of the lie is loneliness. A cold, down-to-the-marrow-in-your-bones kinda loneliness that can’t nothing cure but some plain old honesty. But ain’t nobody selling that. Look around where we are. The truth will not get you drunk. The truth will not let you forget something is terribly broken in your heart.” ~ Sophie, sitting at a noisy bar sipping on her second lychee rose martini with a man she will one day learn to love

~~~

The Embodied Character process is an experiment in character development for many of my stories. Listen to some of my other characters. Learn more about all of my work.

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