The chess match of small towns

Poker faces (and reputations) are harder to hold when the stares never break.

Living in a small town is like living in a world of only older brothers and sisters, where everyone is listening and watching and reporting to mom (mom being whomever stands before you).

As the quiet one in the room, it’s unsettling to always be seen. Eyes aren’t necessarily bad, but the sense of being on constant display grows tiring. Us wallflowers drift to corners for the sake of getting lost in the background, to take a breath away from the spotlight.

Unfortunately, when stock gets low and the public demands news, the world can’t help but keep you stuck in rotation.

In games of social hierarchy, some paths are chosen for you simply by association. All generations have a web of complexly woven relationships with full moons and new moons amongst each other, and sometimes the new guy gets tangled in between.

Other times we run victim to social imagination — where people assume to know “people” so well, claiming they can see right through the “mask,” only to be stuck speaking ill truths while convinced listeners carry the messages to the spotlight.

The only thing left to save us is our character,

(should we be so lucky to be seen for our light).