I don't think I've been acting myself, I feel fake. Maybe I'm happy, or becoming happy. But I'm not, or maybe not letting myself be, because I still feel an empty void there. The kind that keeps you awake till early morning like a ruthless guard because of the thoughts and fictions the hole fills with. Its worse at night, with no one close to contact and the need to watch lost in translation to force myself into a repose. Things could be a lot worse.