Who forgives self-betrayal?

His wounds healed quickly but the scars, all those countless internal and external scars, remained as ugly reminders of a pained existence that never got easier.

The most lonesome of all are those who refute their loneliness.

"You have something, I'm not sure what it is, but you definitely have something."
"Madness?"
"Yeah, that could be it."

"I really don't like you."
"Good."
"What?"
"Your contempt validates and reinforces my intrinsic self-loathing."
"Oh man, now my hatred is joined by pity."
"My inner masochist sincerely appreciates your condemnation."

The detachment from reality was nigh-complete. A parade of alien shapes and meaningless symbols flowed into his perception but there was never any connection, nothing relatable to the dysfunctional nightmare of his internal existence.

Passion, joy, motivation, confidence, energy; all retreated from the overwhelming forces of fear, doubt and pointlessness.

"From what I've heard, reality must be one hell of a horrific place to inhabit."

A real human, given the experiences that had occurred, would have been able to cry.

But the tears would not come.

"I'm sorry, we don't serve androids."
"But I'm not an android. I'm a robot."
"What's the difference?"
"Androids can be mistaken for human."