The upside of lying.

Why do people get so bent out of shape about my lying? They cling so tenaciously to so-called “truth” like it really matters for some reason. They need to be more like me and realize “reality” is too messy and difficult and that I have a right to go back into my history and revise anything I don’t like. I know that for the “nons” out there that a personal history is an important part of knowing who you are and how you define yourself in the world but I’m not burdened by that need. I have a greater need. I have a need to survive in this hellhole of my own demolished self image. I have to lie in order to be able to breath and exist in this life sentence called “my existence”. Lying is my anesthesia and helps me survive being me. Who cares that my lying is disorienting to people that have a history with me. If I’m maddening and frustrating to you because I don’t live in the same reality as everyone else, well, that’s your problem, not mine.

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