The Japanese have a saying: everyone has three faces. The first is for the public and the world to see. The second is for your close friends and family. And the third is your truest form. My first face, the one you all see, is the most fake of all three. It smiles when I am sad and laughs when I want to cry. My second face sheds a tear in the presence of those it knows but still hides the real me. My third and last face is a blank canvas that I can't seem to see. The white expanse is emotionless just as it is colorless. A masked painter dips his clean, pristine brush into the raven black paint. As his brush gets closer to the canvas, there is a slight tremor in his hand. He puts the brush down, leaving the canvas empty and waiting for the day it will be used. Your last face is supposed to be your truest form — so why is mine a blank canvas?