Lost in Translation.

Perhaps, most of the time, in one way or another, they do not see her there. Perhaps they see her, but they do not see her completely. Almost as if one were standing in front of a painting or photograph, totally unconscious of its deeper hidden significant meaning. Her innermost thoughts. Her psyche. Her hopes. Her fears. Her desires. Her dreams. Her innate nature. Perhaps, they are too absorbed in themselves and their own perceptions that they are unable to see past everything. The shell. The repressed contents. Bruised and scarred. Like the way a plaster covers a wound. What she chooses to show, a part of her soul that she reveals. Underneath it all. Ignored. Seen in a different light, perhaps. A different perspective. Her perspective, maybe. They live in a perception-based reality. Is that what you think she is all about? She shall be that then. The truth is what we perceive it to be.

She doesn't want the world to see her, because she doesn't think that they'd understand.

A pearl. Glistening in the shadows.