I think it’s important to learn how to say, “I don’t know.”

Alternatively, you could lie.

Act. Pretend. Put on a performance.

Take pride in being a talented con artist

Carefully master the art of bullshitting,

Wear different personalities and attitudes like masks

Whatever you need to be, whenever you need to be it

Blend into your surroundings like a chameleon

Reflect the people around you back at themselves

Split yourself in at least two pieces –

The mask you show to the world,

And the face underneath it that few people ever get to see

At least two pieces.

Each piece is just as much a part of you as the next

Even as you pretend to be something you’re not.

Knowing how to do this is powerful.

Strategically useful, for one thing.

And it’s a gift – because people who have to lie in hundreds of little ways all the time might better appreciate what it means to be genuine, and know how much it means to be trusted when somebody else is comfortable enough to be himself in their presence

I’ve always suspected that everyone is just pretending

Pretending as hard as they can, all the time

Pretending they believe or comprehend

About everything. Morality, attraction, body language, the spoken word, the taste of wine.

How we’re supposed to feel, and what we are

And some people are just… so much better at pretending than others

They’ve gotten so good [at pretending] that they don’t even know that they’re doing it

Or maybe they do know, but they’re afraid to admit it

Because everyone is so good at pretending

That everyone else feels impossibly alone.

And then there are the people – hello – who are frequently awful at pretending

[except for the odd moment when everything clicks]

These are the ones who like strange things, think strange things

People who’ve been looked at sidelong with impatience all their lives

By other people, people who work so hard at pretending that they no longer know how to stop

and it bothers them to stumble across people who don’t always know how

I’m not sure if I fully comprehend the difference between my own subjective experience and the experience of somebody else.

I don’t know what it feels like for them.

Probably a lot like what it feels like to be me, except… less cinnamon and more nutmeg and a total absence of ginger and a little too much salt. Different ratios.

I can try to understand. I can probably learn to do this well, over time.

It took two years of feeling cut off from everyone I know to even begin to understand

How many different ways there are to be a person

How many different ways there are to pretend

And that it’s possible to be connected to people who are different from me

Without needing to change who I am

Or panic and freeze up, from trying

To manage the things that I think that they think

And I think it’s important to work out how to say, “I don’t know.”

And to just let it go, sometimes. And to listen…

–

I hope it’s a good night.