She knew herself some great actresses that roamed in rooms full of mirrors. How important it is not to be happy, but to seem happy, to always have a laugh to echo other’s pains, to be superior, better, more this, more that. How great it is to always have plans for life, not thinking much but doing loads. “What is the point of it”, she questioned, with an abrupt reality weighting upon her shoulders. How heavy she felt to think of those things, of those samples of human life! She was never like them. If she could have been proud of one thing, it would have been being conscious enough to identify a liar when she feels like one. It was major in her purpose to know herself deeply, and all these hide and seek plays kept her from doing what she felt she needed to do. “It is rather essential to have an ambition”, she concluded, “and how am I supposed to follow mine if I have to seem robotically figured out in the meantime?”. It made her angry to think of this unfairness. She could not cope with this stupidity human fear invented to keep people’s egos intact. She soon realized the importance of self-love, but she still couldn’t adore herself, since she had not discovered who herself surely was. And that was the ultimate quest, wasn’t it? To figure out who she was.