You can hide

You can hide your ignorance behind pedantic statements.

You can hide your dim lights behind the cold neon bulb of a pretentious aphorism.

You can hide between technicalities.

You can hide behind a regulation that no longer makes sense.

You can hide your weakness under the smelly carpet of false virtue, that no one will touch.

You can hide behind a word like under a leafy oak tree, hoping no one will come to look for you there.

You can hide as long as you find a place to hide. But that doesn’t mean people won’t find you.

We read between the lines to find the fault lines in the canvas.

We read others like open books because covers are opaque and you can’t read a closed book, unless it’s an e-book, which has already been read by a computer, but in vain.

We draw the curtain to find the magician sitting at a desk, writing his confessions. He’s cut in half but he doesn’t mind. His assistant is holding a big black cat with a human head.

Hiding feels natural. Hide-and-seek was invented by kids, not by pedantic adults interested in intellectual games. Hiding feels so natural that we don’t mind staying hidden all our lives, wearing nothing but our own skin.

There’s nothing easier than to hide in plain sight. Oh, the satisfaction, oh, the thrill of not being recognised. Odysseus enjoyed his concealment more than sex with his wife. He was sad when the game was over and he had to come out, to be recognised by all, whom he had to kill in the end.

 

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