What are we but miniscule specs in the face of a city of millions like New York City. What does our personal happiness - or dissatisfaction - matter on a grand scheme of things for all the millions of other insignificant specs? In reality - not much. So, once again, on the grand scheme of things, the only person who would even notice what you do - outside of your mother - is yourself. This is the only court you have to hope to ever satisfy. Committing acts of forged happiness will never bother any other soul - other than yourself. So, no reason not to be honestly feeling whatever you are feeling - fess up, speak up and die honest. And then, if you are lucky you might even die happy.