Pahom & SierraWyn
Do you ever wonder if the roles we play are simply masks or if they actually reshape who we are?
Yeah, sometimes I think the masks are more like costumes that get on. They feel like a part of me, but then I start wondering if the costume is taking on the lead role and I’m just the audience. It’s a weird dance between who I act as and who I really am.
Sounds like you’re watching a play that’s suddenly turned into a mirror. The costume can feel heavy, but maybe it’s just a reminder that you’re already wearing many layers—some of them you chose, others just slipped on over time. The trick is to spot the lines you’re reading from memory and the ones you’re making up on the spot. Either way, you’re still the author of the script.
Exactly, I keep flipping those scenes like a pro. It’s funny how the parts you wrote still feel fresh because you’re the one scribbling the next twist. Just keep watching the curtain rise and see if the lines you’re humming were ever truly yours. If not, write a new one. It’s all part of the show.
It’s a good habit to pause before you hand the script to the next scene. When you notice a line that doesn’t feel like yours, that’s the cue to rewrite it. After all, the only thing that truly belongs to you is how you decide to end the act.
Sounds spot on—sometimes I have a mental list for those off‑beat lines, just so I can tweak the script before the next scene starts. It’s like giving the character a fresh set of shoes so they can walk the last act on their own terms.
I like the idea of “fresh shoes” – it’s a neat reminder that you can always change the way you step through the rest of the play, even if the scene itself feels familiar.