a dilemma with myself

Sometimes I wish people would fall off like scabs. They're there when you need them but as soon as there's no use you can just flick them off.

Or even better.

Maybe they'll fall off by themselves.

Twisted, I know.

But what can I say?

I'm manipulative.

I'm sincere.

I'm mean.

I'm nice.

I'm fake.

I'm genuine.

What am I?

Who am I?

maybe someone will tell me

i'd hate to choose by myself