“Don’t take your mask off for too long,” they said.  “You’ll never be able to put it back on,” they warned.  I dismissed such advice as being too restrictive for a psychopath trying to maintain her good standing in the world.  You know what, though?  They were right.  I’ve passed my event horizon and now there is nothing I can do to appear as I once was.

The mask I refer to is one of empathy and care.  There was a time in my life in which I could fein affective empathy and care toward another person.  There was a time in which I would smile and nod and affirm what another person in front of me was saying.  There was a time in which others thought that, while potentially aloof, I genuinely cared about them as human beings.  That time is no more.

I think about my current status in life – of which I want no pity as I brought this solely upon myself – of being friendless and companionless.  Of the people I meet, 99% are vapid and unworthy of my time.  0.9% are interesting but demand a level of sincerity that I can no longer fein.  The one in one thousand that demands neither my “love” and is interesting in and of themselves are nowhere to be found.  At one point my inner sanctum was composed of the one in one hundred, now my inner sanctum is completely vacant.

I brought this upon myself.  The price of transparency is to forever surrender the forces that once held me in good standing with those around me.  I can be in good graces with society as a whole while being abhorred at the individual level.  Such is where I am presently.  Those days of interpersonal relationships have passed; at the cost of losing those around me, I have found honesty – an honesty that only exists beyond the event horizon and in a place that only I can call home.