Who am I, sir? Who am I, and which way is home, and what is this loneliness that springs perpetual? No more crowds, just for a little while, pray sir, just for a little while. So many faces. "There will be time to prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet." Shall there be time to remove the paint and plaster though? Where am I, sir? Beneath the pasteboard, where am I? Where do I begin to look?
Have I a soul, sir? Can it be lifted? Can I be made good? Can you show me how to break? Can you teach me how to break? Oh, break me. Make me a better thing.
I grow lost amid the crowds and the crowds are lost on me. I can't see them. I am insulated. How can I love if I cannot see? I must learn to walk unbuffered. Oh, but how, how, how? Ever since childhood, this fixation on masks. World! How can I see you? World! Take me! On the side of the angels, but not one of them. World! Show me virtue. Teach me goodness. Teach me sympathy. Begone stoicism. World..........
I am so lost.
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