No Big Deal. We All

Whatever Made Me The Way I Am Left Me Hollow, Empty Inside, Unable To Feel. It Doesn't Seem Like A Big Deal. I'm Quite Sure Most People Fake An Awful Lot Of Everyday Human Contact. I Just Fake It All. I Fake It Very Well, And The Feelings Are Never There.

They Like To Tell Us That It Is Important To Speak The Truth, But It Has Been My Experience That Real Happiness Lies In Having People Tell You What You Want To Believe, Usually Not The Same Thing At All, And If You Have To Stub Your Toe On The Truth Later, So Be It.

Since I Am Not Actually A Real Human Being, My Emotional Responses Are Generally Limited To What I Have Learned To Fake.

Another Dream. Another Long-distance Call On My Phantom Party Line. No Wonder I Had Steadfastly Refused To Have Dreams For Most Of My Life. So Stupid; Such Pointless, Obvious Symbols. Totally Uncontrollable Anxiety Soup, Hateful, Blatant Nonsense.

And Once Again I Found Myself Wondering, As I Drifted Off To Stunned And Unbelieving Sleep:how Do These Terrible Things Always Happen To Me?