They Came with Watchful Eyes / In My Dreams I Am Told in Letters of Renaissance

Page upon page, there are so many faces I draw and concern myself over. An extra mark or a shadow here, now there. A line upon the face changes the mood, eyelids set in a studious placidity, or wide and pupils bared in a manner that burns a mark upon the soul with their open intensity. In a face, a story is set, I can make it whatever I wish.
Out in the world I am faced with another task, I must read upon the faces of others what they wish… or, I am expected to see through their masks.
Unsuccessfully, I feel I am often adrift. In a sea of faces I sense deeply what rests behind the watchful eyes of others. But in my nature, I question and doubt myself frequently until all the sensations I’d thought I had felt become confused.
To put embellishment upon the pain and confusion; I have, at times, asked questions of others.
Heard truths thought whispered behind me or out of reach.
People will give answers untrue with reason and without.
In my dreams the very message is not always complete, but in my dreams I am told unconditionally, so very candidly all there is that resides within; all without the slightest amount of film. I dream in a world devoid of lies and covering.
How can anyone blame me for being a bit of a mess and a bit awkward. But often times it takes too long to find a good chance to get this across. Either that, or the message is entirely lost.