I might as well be living in the matrix.

Good morning,

I pray the day finds you well.

Archibald brought in Lettuce from his garden! 

There were all different types of lettuce, he told me all the names, but I wasn't listening so I had yet to learn what type of lettuce it was.  

People would see the lettuce that I picked out in my office and say, "I have never seen that kind of lettuce. What type of lettuce is that?"

I would say, "You haven't? This is really neat lettuce and is actually quite rare. It is called entertainyou."

"Entertainyou?" They would say.

I would reply, "Yes, entertainyou."

They would say, "I had never heard of entertainyou."

I would quip, "You mean to tell me you have never heard of Let us entertain you?"

Nobody laughed.

The best part is nobody has even bothered to look to see if I am wearing a mask. 

I get comments like: 

• You should have been a comedian.
• You are one funny guy.
• Where do you come up with this stuff.

Yep, some of my best work is done behind the mask. 

I have managed to wrench myself free from the mud, but I don't feel like going anywhere, what's the point? 

The pain is constant and acute. I wish I could find joy, but everywhere I look I see people suffering in their own silence. 

When I ask people how they are doing I get:

• I'm alright when clearly they are not alright.
• I'm good when clearly they are not good.
• I'm ok when clearly they are not ok.

They spend their days wearing masks too. Some wear them better than others, but they wear them just the same. 

They come and sit in the chair. They never bother to take their masks off. They sit and tell me things, but never the real issue. 

Seldom do I get the truth?

It has left me cut and bleeding out. 

Do I want to live in a world where everyone is wearing Halloween costumes?

Do I want to live in a world where everyone is at best telling partial truths? 

I might as well be living in the matrix. 

I am left pondering all of this, all the while wearing my mask, why not, everyone else is. 

Oh here's a good one!

There are two loaves of bread in the oven; one loaf says, "Boy or boy, is it ever hot in here." The second loaf looks at the first loaf and screams, "Oh my god, it is a talking loaf of bread."

I wonder what the real reason is that we cannot just be honest with each other?

Something to ponder.

Blessings,

Roger