All the night reveals is how fake people truly are, presentations of their mental images of themselves, shells seeking acceptance from another façade. I wonder if you know how stupid you look, how dumb you sound?
And here I come daring to be profound, “Hi, I am such and such. The real me is at home scratching himself. You’ll meet him down the road when date nights are movies, dinners and missionary style sex. Since we will part ways when it gets to that level of comfort, do you want to just skip to the sex part or continue lying to each other, because seriously, I don’t believe you like hiking and camping. And no, I don’t know what the fuck are Vampire Diaries.”