I don’t know how to be myself. It’s like I’m permanently outside myself. Like, like you could push your hands straight through me if you wanted to. And I can see the type of man I want to be versus the type of man I actually am and I know that I’m doing it but I’m incapable of what needs to be done. I’m like Pinocchio, a wooden boy. Not a real boy. And it kills me.

-Richard Ayoade

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