Even my family lives in an alternate reality. They have been taking turns forwarding me misinformation that smears the protesters, text messages that originate from unknown sources. One of them assures me the family has “no intention of meddling with my life,” but sends me pro-China propaganda anyway.

Once in a while, something pierces through the illusion. At a recent demonstration, a protester in black grabbed my arm.

“Hey! You recognize me? I was in the same class as you in law school!” I didn’t.

“Maybe if you took off your mask?” I suggested. “I can’t tell who you are just from the eyes. Though you probably shouldn’t take it off now.” Fifteen minutes later, we were hit by tear gas, and he dissolved into the crowd.

The looming threat of prosecution, for taking part in what the Hong Kong government calls “illegal protests,” has forced us into anonymity. In the online forums where protest strategies are discussed, we adopt weird handles and real names are never used. A popular saying among the protesters these days is, “One day, we’ll be able to take off our masks, embrace and finally see each other.” The Hong Kong government has arrested over 800 people since the first major anti-extradition protests in June, including several prominent pro-democracy activists on Friday, so that day seems further and further away.

Even the online world has fractured into different planes. While forum discussions are anonymous, regular social media has become a way for Hong Kongers to express their positions on the protests. Many of my friends are journalists, so perhaps I live in a protest bubble — most people I know on social media are posting about nothing else. Some of my friends, who experienced their political enlightenment during the Umbrella Movement in 2014, have now completely dedicated themselves to stalling the rapid undermining of Hong Kong’s remaining freedoms. Even those who never used to follow politics — as if politics were separate from our everyday lives — are suddenly posting about the protests on Instagram.

The ones who are silent are silent for the predictable reasons. I had seen them proudly post photos of themselves standing next to government officials, or hint at their career ambitions in China. Other friends, who I knew were active in the protests, choose to keep their contributions discreet. One of them explained it in an interview: “Perhaps we’re staying anonymous out of fear. But it’s also egalitarian in a way, that whatever we do, we’re just ordinary people who love Hong Kong.”

At least those who oppose the movement outright are taking a stance. More inexplicable are those who refuse to engage, secure in the privilege of brushing the protests aside. Or those who claim to support the protests and then withdraw that support once it disrupts their everyday lives, even though that is the point of civil disobedience.