A confession...

It's something I was discussing with my friend, girlone, last night. (girlone: A nickname I jokingly referred her with during last night's conversation. It was talking about her anonymity in my journal. And you know what? I like it. So I'm using it, although it's not in the sense I was joking about.)

I rarely show emotions. Or, at least, the emotion I show is not usually the emotion I'm actually feeling. I wear masks. We all do. It's just something that keeps me from getting hurt more often.

So I was telling girlone, "I'm the kind of guy who tends to play his emotions close to his heart, and rarely tells people what he's feeling..."

Girlone: "Yeah, I've noticed."

Me: "That's me. The guy full of pent-up emotions."

After thinking it over for a bit, I realized that I have to break the cycle. Start stripping away the layers of masks. MAKE myself more vulnerable. Become the child I was back in elementary. Or, at least, put some elements of little Kyle into the "adult" Jago. So, an explanation's in order. To get to be the way I want to be, need to be, I need to start from the beginning, and work my way from there...

It happened in Grade 6. I was an emotional kid. Small. Weak. And the Grade 8s, being the usual overly cruel kids that only preteens can be, made fun of me. I was the whipping boy. A story everyone's heard, and experienced at least once. For me, it happened for two years.

So, in Grade 8, I changed. Started building the walls. And, of course, the walls that I built up, being who *I* am, were made up of words.

I have always been "The Writer." In high school, English was usually one of my easier classes. In university, after dropping out of the Faculty of Business, I took a year off. Decided what I wanted to do. I enrolled in Journalism.

When it comes to how I describe my writing style, I tend to use the word 'hack.' "I am a hack writer," I say. Maybe it's my joking way to refer the the point of why I'm not working at a paper, why I'm stuck at the Mall, selling electronics. The best way to hide my failures, my inadequacies, is to be flippant about them.

Hence, I'm a hack.

But I'm not a hack. Sure, I'll say that I am. But it's a lie. I write better than a lot of people out there. I'm not being prideful, just stating the truth.

Words. I've always been able to play with words. Twist them, turn them. Make them fit like Tetris blocks. I can, given enough time, or on the fly, parody almost anything. Styles of writing. Change songs to be funny. Self-mocking poems, etcetera. If I don't beat people to the punch by coming up with the witty line, I've failed. They've triumphed over me. Grade 6 all over again.

So, after 4 years of high school, and 8 years since, I've got quite the wall of words. A tower, really. A Tower of Babel of words, reaching high up into the heavens, where Kyle Jago is safe from the spears and arrows people launch at him.

Problem is, in this case as is it in others, is that a tower doesn't just keep me safe. It keeps people out.

I have some friends I can tell almost anything to. The key word in that sentence is ALMOST. I am a very social animal. I always have to be hanging out with someone. I have a lot of friends. But of those friends, I can only really confide in about, I dunno...five per cent of them? Maybe less... To the rest, I'm Jago. Silly guy, fun to hang out with, but I keep my emotions close to me, like a poker hand that no one will see until it's time to read'em and weep, fellas!

Except this hand is taking a long time to play out. And, as such, emotions have been bottled for months, even years.

Because, until I'm true to myself, I'm not true to others.

It's time to break down the walls. My own personal city of Jericho. It's time to start peeling off the masks.

Heh. I think this deserves a new page, don't you?

Reading: Red Dragon by Thomas Harris

Watching: The Godfather Trilogy

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