Deception is an art, not an action
With so little eyes watching me, always complaining on here, I like admitting to my peace of mind, my existence which often grows tired. I wouldn't feel pressured to finish the stories I can't think of an ending to. Nothing is expected of me, no deadlines, no disappointments to others, my heart grows weary, at the possibility of hidden eyes crossing my deepest emotions through a mere scroll, but that's ok. Only I will understand the true severity of the emotions within me. Such as a secret, I wouldn't dare tell such things to another's face, to burden them. A burden to oneself does not get lightened by another's comfort, but by the understanding of another's pain and realizing you are not the only one carrying such heavy weights. Knowing that one is not alone, always lowers the pressure of one's who believe they carry the world on their own shoulders. Such loneliness, must be beared, but upon the sights of another, you realize, the hidden eyes who've seen my pain, happens to carry the same pain. A pain that is not carried by just one, but by so many more, so many possible hidden eyes that cross the scene. A hidden spectacle, some call those eyes god, some call those eyes their lover. But to me, such spectacles can only be my own eyes, watching others beside me, such things, not even a god can do. In such realizations, I consider who I may be hidden eyes to, and who may be hidden eyes to me. In that way, sight is almighty and powerful, a granted ability for emotion. If hidden eyes come across this, you're not alone, for I am here too.