The Curtain Outside — and Inside For everyday issues like politics, economics, society, relationships, psychology etc. most of the audience never even sees the stage. They are content to admire the curtain — its colors, its patterns, the way it glows in the light. A few step closer? They may touch the fabric, stroke it, even lift it just enough to glimpse what might be behind.
But very few wait long enough, or dare strongly enough, to tear the curtain aside and face what is hidden.
The Everyday Curtain On the outside, our lifes appear complete. We know how to keep rhythm with the routines of work, friends, daily obligations. The curtain is there, and we play our role in front of it. But inside, there is another layer – moments when we feel the tug of fantasies that no one around us would suspect. Scenarios of daring, of power lost and regained, of pleasure sharpened by tension. Here arises the psychological conflict: the curtain between our outer masks and our inner world. On one side: routine, predictable desires from others. On the other: our hunger for something more demanding, more vivid, more alive. Psychology calls this cognitive dissonance — the discomfort when our inner self and outer life do not match. Society rewards us for keeping the curtain closed. But our bodies and minds, our darker imagination keep pulling at the fabric.
The Inner Stage And you feel it: the suspicion that there is more. That beauty can be more than admired — it can be wielded. That desire can be more than satisfied — it can be transformed into games of surrender and control. That pleasure can be more than release — it can be intensity, exertion, even transcendence. But without opportunity, without orchestration, these longings remain scattered, half-formed, never realized. So you stand at the threshold: curtain in front of you, audience behind you, and the stage — your stage — still waiting. The question is not whether you have fantasies. The question is whether you are ready to let the curtain fall and grab them and live them.
Psychology describes this as an inner conflict between repression and expression. One part of you adapts to the expected script, repeating the familiar patterns of everyday life. Another part of you longs to improvise, to step into roles you have not yet dared to live. The curtain is the border between these two selves: the one you show, and the one you keep hidden.
