The cacoon and the mask

I believe we are faceless beings. More like cacoons, genetically filled with certain ideals and abilities. Worthless really. It is like having a book that no one reads, filled with answers to the most important questions of life. In psycology, I was simply asked what makes us human. And he ranted and gave his own approach but what I saw was a little more personal. Humans have no instincts he preached. I believe it, without a mother a baby would be helpless. Without some other connection to people, a human is not human at all. And with time will probably no longer be living. Morbid sounding, I know. But we are not born into a world completely alone. We are born with others. Well, I was. Our environment shapes a mask that we wear that is a vigorous attempt to let which is in- out. Some are better masks than others. Some so thin, they are bland and vulnerable. Some so thick, (i would find this to be the majority), that its easy to forget or even lose what is inside. I see this through experience more than anything. I have preached that a person can not change who they are. They can not change this cacoon. With every person, friend, girlfriend I have dug. I digg for the inside of who they are. I have to see how much they are holding back. It is inate in me to read people. I would say I do it freakishly well. Like a book I would say. I can see thoughts entering, and see through their mask when it slowly is accepted through that cacoon. Time is a molder. It is the grand sculptor, changing masks ever so subtly or so abruptly that its hard to see down to where people start from. What do they hold at their core? People can not and do not change who they are. I find it most interesting to see some of my friends from highschool come from college and act as if life has been shoved into their heads. It took 12 years for them to get comfortable with who they are and to find that perfect mask to accentuate every detail of themselves,  and in a mere short time period all of which was certain is now in question. The mask is sweating it is so fresh and with little form or efficiency. I since have stopped talking to them, and it would be a lie if I said it was not due to this. But I still talk to a few, mostly two. They came back and expected just as I had. What beautiful masks they wear.