SOMETIMES I THINK EVERYTHING I DO IS A FRAUD, YOU KNOW? LIKE I’M GOING THROUGH THE MOTIONS OF BEING AFFECTIONATE, OR EMPATHETIC, OR ENTERTAINING, WHILE ON THE INSIDE I’M ONLY READING LINES, STRUGGLING TO MAINTAIN THE FAÇADE. LIKE EVERYTHING’S JUST AN ACT THAT I’VE REHEARSED.
I UNDERSTAND. I TOO HAVE FEELINGS OF ARTIFICIALITY.
YOU’RE A GOOD LISTENER, HORSEY.
MAYBE I JUST PRETEND TO BE.