“At midnight I had always been metamorphosed into a solitary, estranged wanderer.”
— Anaïs Nin
At midnight the mask comes off and I stand so naked that I am unseen. Unseen by the expectations of the day people I can be more truly myself and get lost in my shadows for hours with no fear of expectation. The freedom is welcomed even if it is a solitary pursuit for any companion in my wanderings will project a mask on even the most naked of faces comprised of who they have known me to be and even more odious who they wished me to be that I were not. In the morning world, I wake to my day life and the layers and layers of motley and machier form upon me but the night’s wind never wholly disappears.
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