We are anesthetized. Not by choice, but by habit. We have become masters of pretense, tailoring our emotions, curating our personalities, selling versions of ourselves that fit into fleeting digital molds. The crisis is not just individual—it’s collective.

We criticize the culture of perfection, yet we willingly participate in it. We call out fake news while indulging in algorithm-fed distractions. We crave authenticity but fear being perceived as imperfect. The hypocrisy is inescapable.

Are we truly connecting, or just performing connection? Are we still honest with ourselves, or have we blurred the lines so much that even our inner truths are scripted? How much of what we feel is real, and how much is just another story we tell?
This is an ode to the expected perfect self, to the curated lives we pretend to love. A confession of exhaustion. A confrontation of the self. An invitation to wake up.