To Whom it May Concern

I haven't done the right thing because I wanted to in a long time. I do the right thing because I don't want people to hate me for doing the wrong thing. I do it so I can say I'm a good person. I do it, because it's the right thing. I don't get that warm, fuzzy feeling from knowing I'm on a righteous path. Instead I feel empty. Like a shell of a person compelled to move forward. Taking direction from society and following the accepted moral code. Is this to say I feel good doing the wrong thing? No, I can't say that feels good either. Right or wrong, it all feels the same. It all feels like nothing. I lack the connections to engage.
What drives me is the hope that someday I'll begin to feel. Maybe I'll meet someone or have some epiphany. Maybe someday I'll be plugged in and the right thing will bring joy. If I pretend to be a good person for long enough, will I become one? If I feign emotional attachment, will I feel it?

Fragments Make None Whole

How does an individual continue moving forward when they lack essential components of a soul? There seems to be a common consensus that a person like me, one that is lacking in these pieces of an extremely complex puzzle, is successful if their actions are not defined by their vacancy. If the individual seems to respond to their peers, follow some semblance of a moral code, and maintain an outward appearance that suggests mental stability. I have learned all of these behaviors. I mimic human emotion almost as if I experience it the way the majority of the world does. I do this through extensive self monitoring and observation of those around me. It's almost like standing in a crowded train station, watching passengers board and depart, and knowing every intricate detail about their destinations, desires, goals, and dreams. They pass by me and make idle chatter, appreciative of my interest in them but never realizing that I haven't boarded any trains. I've no investment of my own and therefore no common ground with any of them. Why then, do I bother to show up day after day? To watch them pursue their ambitions? To cheer them on? Certainly not the last as I simply don't care about any of them.

Have you figured out which parts of my soul are missing? I do not cry for sad stories on the news. Nor do I feel compelled to relate to another. I am not interested in the comings and goings of strangers. Gossips serves to entertain for a short period of time, but not enough that I should wish to repeat it. I understand the need to assist when someone needs help and feel compelled to do so from time to time, but I do not do it out of caring or kind heartedness. I do it because I have conditioned myself to respond as if I gave a shit. I am emotionally invested in six people on this planet. I can not include my parents in this group. Cutting ties with my mother has not bothered me in any significant way. She simply does not exist for me anymore. I do not hate her or love her. I do not care. I can not include myself in the six. My feelings on the value of my existence extend no further than how that existence affects the six. I would do anything for those people, beyond them I simply drift through the station waiting for them to need me.

This existence, devoid of connection, is what I imagine Hell is. Does this mean I an in agony? No. I am in nothing of the sort. I experience little pain. I experience little joy. Simple joys that one might take for granted such as a holiday party at work. I avoid these things. I can fake all the proper pleasure for these events and I have tried desperately to feel this pleasure, but I simply can not. What I can do is observe all the emotion, connections, and joy that I will never be a part of. So I avoid these events. As my commitment to the facade fades people begin to notice more and more my strangeness. (Alien might be a better word than strange.) I find myself in a position of confusion. Why have I wasted time blending in? Why do I push forward? In the past it's been a ruse,  a way to make it appear that I have a goal for my purpose. That I am working to achieve a definitive role in society. Truth be told, I want no role here. My motivation for now remains the six.