Do I really want to live this life?

Do I really want to live this life? Asking such a question (to myself) is like looking at the mirror and pondering over the reflection. Most of the time I am sorry for myself being not able to grasp what’s there in the reflection: me or someone else? The same has been with the life: am I living my own life or am I trying to portray something else? It’s not worth giving a thought about being ‘originality’ of ‘Me or the reflection’…but at certain moment, I comfortably place myself for a wild ride to think about it. By and large, it offers me occasional calm in rather restless hours.
What will help me reveal the true self? Looking at the derivatives of what I do daily, frequently, it seems I am one of those fobs, always worried about how he looks! It’s like a pretentious effort to describe myself looking at the mirror. A loud lie!
So my life is all about lies and pretentions. I fake life. I fake love. I fake my own being.
Someday, I would die without knowing who am I or even so, without realizing why I lied all my life long. I think, it’s the norm here. Somehow, it seems to me, I wasn’t born with the courage to be myself.
Do I really want to live this life?
This may be one of those funny questions I hate to ask myself!