why is it that the only time i appear to not be socially inept is when i pretend i am someone other than myself?
why is that when i go someplace, there is no trace of my being there other than the empty space i just left and the awkward silence that has been filled since my departure?
why am i a mystery even to myself?
in the words of leo gursky, "I knew I was different from them, and the difference hurt."
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