People automatically, unconsciously censor themselves, from the way they respond to others (I’ll roll my eyes when you’re not looking, you stupid cunt), to the way that they respond to a loved one (of course you look dumb in those skinny jeans but I can’t tell you that please look at my questioning eyes and replace them).
I don’t think it would be healthy for everyone to just blankly tell the truth of how we feel about everything all of the time. But when it comes to our friends, and to the people that we care about here or in the real world, why do we so often censor who we are to appear nicer/sweeter/gentler/saner? Why do we delete posts where we rant about someone who was shitty, and why do we hide the pain that we feel inside and smile to everyone in our real lives?
I am the same person in real life, but I censor by not interacting. The things I say here are the things I feel there but I don’t talk about them to many people. I don’t go up to my classmate and tell her about how hard it is to get up in the morning because I don’t know why I should do it and I don’t know why I’m here and I could move tomorrow and miss no one. That would be weird. She would think whatthefuck and probably not like it. Or maybe she’d spill all her guts and I would think whatthefuck and move away. Because I probably don’t want to hear it. Because I just go there and leave. I am existing on the peripheries and nobody notices, they just imagine I am quiet, or they imagine nothing at all. I don’t know anymore.
I do know that many of you lead double lives. You are smiling and happy and social outside of your phones and in your phones you are spouting confessions. Some of you don’t even do that, you just reblog or tell a joke and in a sense, that is the same as most of our acquaintances on the street because all I see is a facade. Sometimes it’s an entertaining one but it’s still a facade. We censor who we are because we don’t want to look at ourselves and after awhile we can’t even see who that is anymore.
We censor how we speak because we think that talking about peace and happiness is going to make us better, and if we tell something sad then we will manifest it. Well fuck happy. Fuck jokes all of the time. And fuck perpetual smiles. They don’t mean anything, and happiness doesn’t mean anything, if it doesn’t come with a shadow. And if you can’t accept your shadow than you might as well be a ghost.
Clou le Fou
In conjunction with my photography exploring negative space, I have also been writing in that silent time between midnight and 4am, and here I have gathered memories and words from that space between dreams and reality.