My writing mask

Am I sharing this to seduce you into getting what I want? Is this ethical? Is seduction ever kind?

I dread offending people.

Some people use that against me to keep me in line, to keep me between the lines they drew, the kinds they feel outline the straight and narrow they want me to walk within. Rarely do I get asked if I want to walk on this path, I’m only supposed to know that I want that. That path is the way normal, well-adjusted adult men walk.

Conform to that, dammit, you are embarrassing yourself… you are embarrassing me.

I don’t want most of what I am told I should at my age. A big house, a steady job, a newer car, a non-dysfunctional relationship with my siblings, grandkids…

Is everything ok with him? I saw he wrote a thing that seems a little… he didn’t mention you at all… that seems odd… he should mention you.

The story isn’t about you. You don’t have the right to tell me what I should write. You are why I wear a mask.

But I don’t write what my soul aches to say. I edit myself to fit behind my writer mask, with my face poking out just a little bit to lure you into my stories; but in a benign way. I never intend to lie to you for any other reason than to connect our mutual humanity. The me you see behind my writer mask is the real me, just not the whole me.

That is not fair! We want to see the real you, not the you hiding behind a mask. I thought I knew you but you are just another liar on the internet.

You never will see the whole real me. I will always wear a mask even as many of my readers may feel I share my soul freely. I don’t; I gauge the ability of my audience to absorb what I share and push just a little bit more, attempting to induce a feeling of being overwhelmed. But that is easy for me; too easy sometimes.

Don't you feel guilt about manipulating people? You can’t just toy with people like they are your little playthings. That is selfish and reckless. You are gaslighting them…

I struggle with seduction all the time. Am I sharing this to seduce you into getting what I want? Is this ethical? Is seduction ever kind? Are you doing the same with me by reading and clicking my heart? Is this a fair exchange of attention? Are we both equally lonely, circling each other, searching for cues of mutual attraction? Do I need to interact with you with one hand on my sidearm, knowing I have to shoot at you if you outdraw me? Are you seducing me?

I benefit from people around me who find me tedious, my writing uninspired, too existential and not pragmatic enough. Everything has to do something, be worth a comparative return in real worth. An essay doesn’t do anything; tweets, threads, notes, instagrams don’t draw a paycheck. They don’t go out of their way to read me, but they might. Their world view needs my mask. Even me peeking out from the edges this much threatens their world. It threatens who they believe they are by defining who they need me to be.

Is this story a mask? You, dear reader, need to figure that out for yourself; I’ve told you all I’m gonna say, which has already been too much.