She's got synthethic skin, with reality tucked up neatly inside:

Nothing much can get me down these days. Contentment? More like disconnection. It's a lonely and unfulfilling state of mind. But it's safe, and easy and kind to the skin.

I made my film yesterday, which was a non-event. Just another day to casually flick past in the pages of a diary. I watched myself on camera yesterday and I couldn't recognise the person on the screen. It was an unsure person, an unclear pixelated image. It was a person who gave up giving a shit when it got too much. It's a fading person, an uncaring person. Worse still, it's an ordinary person. Hah, ordinary - and I'm not even proficient at being 'normal'.

I think I might have tried too hard to protect myself from involvement and ended up protecting myself from caring at all.