Book: Mask

We - every single one is like the onion.
Will otsloicu single shell, it's another. Atsushita it, find a new one. Tear off this one, and there another and another.
And so on to infinity.
So - layer by layer - is composed of our personality is like an onion. We are constantly burdened with the pile of masks. Everyone we meet on the street? The pretty lady? Give me a mask of Hungry sensualist! The lady can not stomach blatant interest? I quickly intellectual sheath and colors to depict the subtle boredom in the face! Stomped by a child. Children's mask! To condescend, to look down to talk and start a conversation. But an old man. Children's mask is not removed. Children and the elderly - are the two sides of the same coin. To speak, to look down, down, down!
And off we go! Our faces and skin shed their shell and crumble.