He reclines in the wicker chair and basks in the afternoon sunlight. After a moment, sleep overtakes him and he drifts off, away to a world where he is wanted, away to a world where he is loved. Here, in his mind, people listen instead of using, they feel his emotions and they smile at his jokes. Here his friends don't beat him down and here his family gives him thought. In his mind he shares a bed with a woman that would die of heartbreak without him, and they synchronize and laugh and cuddle.
But this wonderland is also brings along a nagging curse. You can't stay here forever, and the more you want too, the more you loose in life. Being a dreamer doesn't put food on the table and hope can't buy a roof. In the real world, he must put away his dreams and put on his guise of happiness and smiles. But the mask he wears digs at his skin and rubs him raw. No one knows, or rather, no one wants to know. When someone looks happy, why ask "What's wrong?"
His real self is a burden. He brings up his thoughts and feelings and they plug their ears and look away. Why? Because he is worthless garbage to them, and to everyone. They only want the mask he wears. He theorizes if the mask were on a scarecrow they'd want it more for the scarecrow abstains speech. He is the gorgon with the guilded guise.
