I spend most of my life pretending to be real. Have real emotions, depth, empathy, care. To be, feel something that I can't even begin to understand. I can't, anymore, identify which experiences are real and which are part of the facade. Can I truly care about someone, even myself, on any level at all? Can I have any depth in my life? Or are all my efforts just a series of fleeting stimulations to fill this wretched, mundane existence?

If I can't, which I know I can't, then is it wrong of me to pretend that I can? For all these years, I've convinced myself and everyone significantly close to me that I am a semi-decent human being for at least making the attempt to give a care and conform to this world according to its laws and principles. But my attempts are empty; they always have been. The real me, what little of me is real, is at odds with society. I'm trying to be and achieve something that I can't. Therefore, I'm not really "good." That's just me pretending to be a "good" person by admitting that I'm a "bad" person who is trying to change. But I can't change. I'm just pretending again, because that's all I can do. It's all I'm capable of doing. The only difference is, this time, I'm fooling even myself.

And what about those who are close to me? Does it matter to them that I can't love them, not truly? What does it even mean to give real love? If they're happy in their world, does it matter that it isn't real?

And what about me? If pretending is the only thing of which I'm capable and that isn't enough for them, then where does that leave me? "Real" is a goal which I desire but do not understand and am not capable of achieving. Does that mean I give up? Allow the facade to slip and become a social pariah? Or slip the facade back on and, with a joyless smile, say, "... to hell with everybody else."

But I don't want to delude myself into believing that I am a good person. I would like to know if what I do is enough, or if it inevitably harms those around me. Then I can choose.