...
It's how well you can bullshit the truth into shape for an appealing public persona. It's sort of the lie that raises you up from the one they stuck you with... a meta-lie... an exaltation of delusion instead of the same old humdrum normal one you wear in meatspace.
Now you can be some dolt from a Midwest grain silo and crippling acne who's turned his lack of success with women into a gender identity departure with an unmistakable aristocratic air.
Depending on your facility with words, and, more, your ability with image editing, you can work night and day to evolve and grow this utter claptrap into The Real You... never having even changed out of your overalls... without even tidying the silo.
And, bonus! Bonus, bonus, bonus. Your entire exalted whopper of a pile of steaming do can be manipulated by psychopaths to suit whatever they have in mind for you, when/if they ever deem it convenient to pick on you.
Your throngs of devoted liars fans will be shocked, shocked, by your disingenuous affectations of chictude and all will be lost... unless... unless... unless you are a very quiet-about-certain-things and careful bag of air, that is.
always and any time....
