The mask, it feels so safe. But is it?
You put it on and out you go to the shop and interact within the allowed, social, distance, as observed by law. Six feet the height of a man. Six feet the depth at which, one is buried.
A particle fluid dynamicist has suggested 27 feet apart, as particles that are emitted from the mouth can reach that distance in an easy breath out.
No one can see who you are, and it covers the mouth of others of which confrontation centers. Titillation is the mystery and for some, it is anonymity, touched with a bit of sexual fetish. Inviting and tempting, but yet warding off and away from the wearer.
To some, it is a symbol of complete covering, invisibility. They finally don’t feel as naked anymore, as vulnerable as they did before…
It has been called the new tinfoil hat, as most that wear it are covered completely in the conspiracy of the whole thing. And microscopic iota bounce off the front and fall harmless and broken, at the feet on the ground.
Some are prone to decoration as mandalas of protection. Beads and ancient writings, magical symbols and jewels and amulets and colours, and some sewn from expensive fabrics to invite the vain. Creativity takes hold of some and expressions of alter egos are now suddenly shown through the voice and eyes.
We speak with our eyes now. Some express intolerance of others and some masks are shaped to drive fear into the observer, all are altered in appearance and the mask, “which bestows on its wearer reality-bending powers” it seems, and always the forever altered appearance.
The meek in stature now become more fearsome. The shadow finds its true expression now at last. Having lived in the darkness for so long, it now feels no threat and is awake and eager to express itself, behind the mask.
Heroes are behind masks, superheroes are behind masks. Saviours of mankind are masked now. And something is kept inside, deep behind the mask. The mask is, only as dangerous as its wearer, only as intimidating as its user. One can look from behind it in righteous indignation at those naked faces and scorn the observed. Or like a cat pressed to a wall they creep among the mobs of the mad and insane on the way to a carton of milk and some bread and eggs.
The mask separates one from the herd but creates a new herd of those finally able to express their contempt for the whole dam thing. Their distaste of so many here, the overcrowding. Masking allows for others to show their disdain and have the observer look away refusing eye contact. The mask creates false security in the insecure. And the illusion of power rises in the timid.
Criminals wear masks, and so some are disgusted with themselves in their weakness, but afraid it might be right, and better to not take a chance and lose.
The new fashion statement in disregard of its real purpose has overtaken some as they buy multiples to goes with outfits and coats and purses and coiffed hair. Made of lace and muslin and useless in their function. Adorned and gilded and spiced with perfume.
Some with easy breathing and valves to stop the fogging of one’s eyeglasses.
And Masks-r-Us have millions and are in style, with your favourite team logo and Disney character. There are masks with camouflage and masks with little windows so we might see your smile. Masks with plastic holders so your ears won’t get pinched — masks with your name embroidered and masks that are, organic. Masks for the cannabis users with a little roach clip at the side.
Masks for men and masks for boys, with skeletons and slogans on the mouth. Masks of plastic and masks of steel mesh and light aluminum, masks for children and tiny… little babies. Masks so small they make you sigh.
Masks for singers and masks for speakers and masks with clear plastic shields to protect your eyes. Masks for the workplace and masks for an evening out. Masks for guests at dinner and masks for at the lake.
Driving masks and running masks, and loving masks and hating masks. And the right mask for a task.