I accept this life. To live alone in quiet solitude. No pets, no room mates, only the occasional meeting with close friends as human contact. Outside of work, I game, browse 4chan and watch anime. I fap to porn late at night, after having eaten another dinner of soggy noodles. With the results of my online shopping around me, and my distractions from real life laying strewn about the floor, cables winding around the room. It's hollow, but easy. I can delude myself into acceptance often enough. I manage it almost every day. But then it slips. Cracks form. Hairline fractures along the tightly-spun cocoon of a reality I've spun for myself.