The following quote struck me as interesting...
There's this parish priest, goes up to the pope, drops down on his knees, starts weeping, asking forgiveness. "Holy Father, Holy Father, what am I to do? What am I to do? I do not believe in God anymore. What am I to do?" You know what the pope said? "Fake it."
Now I'm not saying that I all of the sudden don't believe in my faith anymore or that my morals have been shaken or something. Just sometimes, somedays, it feels like I'm the priest and everyone else is the pope. There's those people around you who's very presence just screams "Fake it to me." So you plaster on that absurd smile and spin a web of imaginary optimism...ready to tell them whatever they need to hear. But that old saying that if you fake it long enough it will come true, that is one big fat lie. Faking it doesn't make it real. But with everything we have, what right do we have to be unhappy? Yet here it is, that ever present state of discontent and pain. Part of you wants to wallow in it and the other part wants to take a bat to that glass box of isolation you've built around yourself, smashing it to pieces. But there's only so long you can sit there in the box...I think I'll take that bat now.