Insanity

If anyone noticed two boys lying side by side under the evening sky, hands reached out toward the clouds, intermittent exclamations of Sylvia Plath poetry and TOK material - please forgive us - for we were simply being mad.

That was Kenneth and I - Kenneth being the one seriously in need to release, I being the (faithful) friend who accompanied him (though the clouds were probably enough company for him). Why would two perfectly ordinary people be driven to the brink of madness? Emil was there, he questioned, and was answered with a flat 'You Fool!' from (who else but) Kenneth.

And tossing sticks and tree branches at Year 6 people from the highest level in the IB school block must be the craziest thing yet - only second to staring intently (with gleeful expression) at an open penknife. That was Kenneth in week 4 - I could only watch on as I watched my steady friend degenerate into pure insanity.

But I suppose - masked behind insanity was a great grief, a great sorrow, one that I sought to understand but could not - One that I tried to venture into, but only made worse (and that brought me pain).

Masks. Don't we all hide behind one? When shall we unveil our true identities? When shall the world be free of this endless masquerade?

I wish I could see my friends - my real friends - free of any masks - only then can I fully love them, and only then can they fully reciprocate that love :)

Well, some choose to keep those masks on, but at least - don't keep a mask on before our Lord :)