Why

I am wondering why. I wake up everyday with such optimizum only to foiled by some sceme to ruin my day time and time again. Why. I try hard to maintain the balance between realizm and fake reality. But somehow the fake shadows the real and all phylums of reality start to fade. Why. Why I ask. For am I destined to stratle the realms of real and what may become. I am not real. I am a figment of my imagination. For if I was real I would be able to feel. My childhood and upbringing has me made so cold that only a burn to the hand will make me feel something. Other than that it is very difficult. However there are things that I enjoy. But only a few others enjoy the same. So indicative I am destined to be forever misunderstood and lonely because of it.