i used to think it was stupid how people couldn't recognize that clark kent was superman, how a pair of glasses could render superman invisible. today i wonder if maybe this is based on a phenomenon that's real.

today i went to a toastmasters division competition. the understanding i had was that i would probably never see these people again. the message had been delivered to those it was intended for. the messenger is to stay out of the way of the work of the message. but i wanted to know. and i wanted to be supportive of this group that had accepted me for a few weeks.

the room was bright and fluorescent-lit, unforgiving. sometimes the best way to hide is out in the open. i wore my hair up and glasses. i've been told when i do this, i look like a different person. wore stylish, texturized solids, rich and earthy for the sake of blending into the background, but potentially stunning if you notice. sat directly behind everyone from my chapter, my knees inches from our treasurer's back who was sitting in front of me. gray wool socks with black loafers, his feet nervously jiggle when he sits. yet he looks like a dancer gliding with animal grace, every movement lyrical when he walks. why?

i focused on a reality in which i believed i didn't know anyone here, that i was consciously, a complete stranger to this place and these people. cloaked myself in blankness. hiding. a man i've truly never met sitting next to me noticed me; he kept pretending to crane to look at the guy on the other side of me, taking a long lingering look at my face as he turned his head back. i sat motionless, refusing to make eye contact. he seemed to be subtly smelling me which was making me nervous. i wondered if my perfume was too strong. if my scent was too obvious, giving me away. had i made a mistake? but the people in my group didn't see me, even though they were all in the two rows in front of me. they walked by me and even turned, facing me. i made brief eye contact with one of them when he turned to talk to the man in front of me. no spark in his eyes. no recognition.

i slipped out just before they announced the intermission, went to the bathroom. thought about it, that if my presence had actually been noticed without me realizing, then i probably come off very strange. figured i should probably mingle.

when i walked up to the group at the intermission, it became clear no one knew i had been there the whole time. they were really surprised and happy. some looked confused, like they weren't sure if it was me, like they weren't sure what to make of me. that was the point though, wasn't it? my sharp entrance into their lives? my vanishing? wasn't that what i wanted, what i'm always obsessing about, to make sure they didn't become attached to the messenger and lose the message? no, it's not what i want, because underneath it all, i'm lonely and i want people to know and understand all levels of me. but i don't want to let people get attached, pin their hopes and dreams or feelings on me because i don't know where life will take me and my commitment first and foremost is to this journey.

the person who hadn't recognized me earlier despite making eye contact made a happy sound when he recognized me. he looked at me in amazement, like i was someone he never thought he would see again, when in walks a ghost. he grabbed my hand with both of his, shaking vigorously and refusing to let go. in chinese, this means gratitude. in white people, i'm not sure what this means. it's really really good to see you. really good to see you, he kept saying. his whole body crackled with anxious energy, his eyes never broke contact. like he was assuring himself this moment was real. if i could trust that this man weren't a drowning man looking for an audience, i can feel the message for him on the edge of my mental horizon that could guide him towards the peace he secretly wants if he could let go of the drama he openly craves. but his desperation makes me very cautious. i can not trust that he won't eventually lash out at me.

they didn't know i had been there the whole time. they thought i had just shown up. they were surprised i'd been there for a while. i didn't even know you were right behind me, one man said. i didn't recognize you, said another.

but one of them did. i knew that he knew more about me than the others, but i didn't acknowledge this or show awareness out of politeness, keeping my expressions open but neutral. two poker projections facing off, both with secrets, both hard to read. but i did have questions, questions that i would never bring up openly unless the subject were put on the table. other people were talking to me so it was hard to get space to talk to him, to feel him out. i was curious to understand what he thinks he knows, what he was hoping to find. maybe he's not even aware of what exactly drives his curiosity, so these questions may not even matter. does he want a message, or is he like me, two travelers in an undeveloped foreign land, realizing we look the same under our masks, but only acknowledging our hidden selves in psychic nods and winks? or is this just lower vibration human complication to be avoided at all costs?

glasses. hair up. one mind's focused projection bending the perceived reality of others. like with mirrors. like in magic.

an illusion.

for a short period of time, i walked among the living without their awareness.

overall a fun evening, interesting experiment, and an overwhelming tinge of loneliness and loss on the drive home.

i am empty when i am alone.

lost without a reflection.

a shadow without identity.

a messenger serving a voice i've never met.

echoing.

i am a ghost.