Lie often.  But don't actually fabricate things; tell the truth in all things but in such a way as to make people think things about you that aren't true at all.  You'll wonder if you're a bad person, if you should stop misleading-but-not-really-lying.  You'll wonder why your intentions aren't so transparent that birds crash into you on a regular basis and fall to the ground, twitching and fluttering like a landed fish with epilepsy.  Maybe you are Mr. Cellophane, and they say nothing out of some perverse kindness.  Stay the course.

Doubt yourself often; it's healthy.  Question your actions and be ashamed of yourself.  The deeper you dig that hole the more afraid you'll become of being exposed, and fear will fuel your shovel.  There is no turning back.  There is no vindication.  You have only what you weave.  You have to defy your mother and make that face until it sticks that way.  Practice in your sleep.  You won't be sleeping well.  Zarathustra scorned those who aspire to sleep soundly; you should, too.  You'll feel better.

Don't make friends, make allies.  And if you can, followers.  They're more loyal than friends and won't resent you quite so much when you dispose of them.  Pass them a shovel and have them help you dig until they collapse.  Bury them in the excavated dirt that is your wake.  Say a short prayer of contrition to a God you don't believe in; they'd appreciate the gesture if they could.  Keep digging.

You’ll start living the life that everyone else does because you believe you deserved it all along, no matter the cost.  Go to a university to study a major that doesn’t suit you, eloquently convincing those reviewing your application that you’re a perfect fit for the school and the major.  Leave home.  Get in debt.  Experiment with drugs.  Fall behind in your studies, and then masterfully convince concerned administrators that you’re just having a hard time with vague issues in your personal life that they have no choice but to relate to or at least sympathize with, if they’re human.  Wonder if you’re human.  Don’t wonder too long.

Get involved in on-campus activities.  Join clubs.  Look active and normal.  Form relationships and bonds that you’re not sure are mutually interesting or beneficial.  Don’t have the heart to break them.  Talk yourself into corners (where the walls of obligation and some kind of perverse compassion meet); appear confident and charismatic.  Cower inwardly.  Convince yourself that none of this deception is wrong, as long as you can manage to stay honest with yourself.  Wonder if you’re sane.  Keep digging.

Think about becoming a writer.  Don’t write.  Convince yourself it’s the thought that counts.  Realize that thoughts are all you have left.  Accuse them of betraying you.  Wonder why you’re so intent on being alone.  Wonder even more why you reach out to others so passionately, despite this intent.  Stop doubting yourself so much; it isn’t healthy.  Move to a different state.  Change your name.  Dig.  Dig.  Dig.

Realize that you can’t see anymore; you’ve dug so deep the light can’t reach you.  Stop digging.  You’ve made it.  Home free, in the land of the brave.  Stop kidding yourself.  Pray you like where you’ve ended up - there’s no way back.  Find the darkness suffocating but comfortable; the soothing pressure of a lover falling asleep on your chest.  Hope that lover is really just sleeping.  Shake off that thought.  

You’re alone and you’re ok with that.  You were digging into yourself the whole time, thinking maybe you’d find something there.  You’ve found not a whole.  Just a hole.  Your lies become you.