As you drop off to sleep, silently call out with all your heart to the deity you've envisioned. Within two weeks, I predict the two of you will enjoy a communion you will always remember. If you were a cow, it would be prime time to move on to new grazing lands. If you were a journalist, it'd be a perfect moment to stop forcing the raging ambiguity of real life into neatly packaged news-bites. If you were an immortal god-like being who had impulsively taken on a human form as an experiment only to have forgotten your origins, you'd be on the verge of remembering the truth.
Truth decay is now in progress.
If not, I completely understand. Accept the fact that deceit will triumph, and go your way in peace. By next week the fraud will be more entrenched and difficult to prove. That would damage the beautiful truth you want to protect and defend. As skilled as you are at standing back and making astute observations, I urge you to forego this pleasure for now so that you may plunge in and make the kind of loud sweaty grunts that come with total commitment.