i'm not dead yet

that first post needed more but i... was too anxious to be free

Everett mills is still alive.
she always was.

Did you know? I thought not.

I am not who you think i am,
I never have been.

i've been sick of fake laughs and noise since i first learned about masks.
about masks that lovely ladies wear with feathers
that wesley wore to save the princess bride
masks worn by hyperactive kids, either so they can practice wearing lies
or so their mothers can pretend for one night a year,
"oh, that one's not mine"
masks that hide your face but not your eyes,
that wrap those windows to the soul in someone else's skin and man it must grate your soul like heck but it leaves so little space for glimpses into the truth,

people say
"real men don't hide"
well real men don't exist.

the only people who've never hidden and never will and aren't wearing some kind of cover-up right now are
worse than dead
because you dreamed them up

and i've been sick of masks for too long.

my mom is loud.  my dad is quiet.
loud meant fake for a little blond girl
and so yes i smiled, and probably laughed too much
but i'm like my dad
and i like the truth.

if its possible to be shy and brave then i was, on and off, you may have caught me in a brave moment but overthinking stretched and filled every gap in action,
overthinking and doubt and shame and a sadness because so often
my quiet self was alone.
i overthought the mask
it took me so long to separate the truth from the lies--
so long to learn that
not all laughs are fake
that smiles are not inherently plastic
that lies are not the substance of life
that i can make jokes and talk
and not grit my teeth to keep the monsters from slipping into sight
Because there were no monsters but everyone else had them and what could i do but assume that
i couldn't smile like them and act beautiful without being a lie.
because thats what they were.

because even if mine was real
and their's were fake
it would look the same.
And I didn't want to be fake.

i never doubted myself.  i never doubted God and i never doubted that this world is good, and i never doubted that i can do anything
because i'm more than slightly idealistic,
but that didn't stop the voices in my head and it didn't stop the other voices fighting it and i
think
way too much.

so this is about what's been on my mind forever.  this is about truth because i value honesty and Everett Mills has always been alive. 
she just never had a name.
i've been finding my voice for years now,
and the person you see at school with my name is as real as the devil
and has always dreamed
and always wanted
and
took some time to find her voice.

(i was shy.  i hated it.)

"she doesn't talk much"
"i know you're quiet"

"oh I'll do that, I'll bet you'd rather not do that much talking"

"she's just shy"

I HATED IT

and i had thoughts and they were beautiful

and i wanted words for them

and i wanted to say them

and i wanted to give you a hug

to tell you

to speak up 

to dance 

to sing in front of crowds
i had music in me and the only words i had to say them were piano keys.
i've had it all.
forever.
all but courage.

I hate masks.
not their wearers,
but oh how I hate masks.

i went to forever trying to avoid them and somehow all i did was pin on one of my own, safety pinned it through the skin around my eyes and because i saw no blood i thought nothing of it,
but i've been drowning
bleeding internally
so badly that if i tilt too far to one side i'm afraid i would hear the blood sloshing within me, hear the blood-tide following the moon from within my lungs.
I am gasping for breath from the bad blood
thats still seeping from those safety-pin wounds
i painted a mask around my eyes, i thought the paint-can was labeled silence but really i was using blood
it was like the shell i never wanted
and it fit perfectly.
this mask felt less cruel to everyone but my soul.
to everyone but my heart,
punctured by paint brushes
and gagged with duct tape rougher than he is and heavier than the earsplitting silence of my shame
safer
to everyone but me.

I've always been real.
I've always been Everett Mills
but i haven't always been honest.
if i had a key i would toss it because
i'm not locking up again.

thank you for listening.
Anna Tasso

she

started writing

...real