People Seem To Like Me

People seem to like me. I have no idea why. I'm aware that I am good at doing certain tricks and things, small feats of conversation. I'm told that I have a great sense of humor. I don't know what it means. I think everything's funny. I've just learned to limit my remarks to what other people will think is funny. In those social situations.

But I feel like I'm not even good at that anymore. The small joy has gone out of it for me. I feel like a fake, a huge fake. Not a fake as in I'm really one thing, and I put on or pretend to be something else. More like a fake as in I'm not anything, not anything at all.

I am cut off, as we all are cut off. We spend our lives trapped in our own selves, never knowing whether other people really feel as we do inside, or whether no one does - and no one knows. I feel like I never have had and never will have a connection to anyone, that our connections that we tell ourselves we share are all either purely surface, or purely illusory. Nothing gets in. We are locked out from each other.

I wonder whether every interaction we have is just people going through the accepted motions, repeating the scenes and displays and interactions we've seen; acting, interacting the way that we've been shown how, on television, in the movies.

I feel as though I and everyone I know are play-acting our parts, parts that we write as we go along. It's strenuous, writing your own dialogue as you go along. Sometimes you have a conversation that could have been extremely important, could have meant something. But you fuck it up. And then you tell yourself, it wouldn't have meant anything anyway. Because nothing does.

After a certain amount of time you realize that you always have felt this way. You just weren't as aware of it before, but it's always been there. The isolation. The hollowness. The lie.

Unfortunately...no one can be told about the Matrix. You have to see it for yourself.