Lies
Posted by Ariel Flynn on Thursday, December 3, 2009
Under: Diary
My life is built on lies. So many lies, I don't know what's completely truth anymore. I don't know what's real, what's just in my head, and what's completely and utterly fake. I think I might be crazy too. I'm certainly not entirely sane. I say I believe in things that I don't really believe in, another one of those lies, yet a part of me is convinced and hopes that they're real. The human mind has to believe in something, otherwise it'll go crazy.
Or so I assume. I don't know if that's entirely true, either. I just made it up, an educated guess, at a stretch. I suppose. I assume. Gah, I don't really know.
I'm also a coward and a clutz. And a rather bad person. I manipulate (or try to) and am selfish. I am more bothered by humanity as a whole than I take the time to appreciate it. I'd much rather stay in a world of my own conjuring than something that's real and tangible. But I'll never tell anyone this. Never. Because I want to appear to have a bit of a heart.
Whenever I tell someone (this has only happened once, mind you), I watch as their eyes widen and horror sets in. They start to comprehend the monster that I hide. The creature of sin and human desire. But I'm too afraid most times to act on that desire. Good thing she was too drunk to remember it, though I know it's forever set in her subconscious now.
She doesn't trust me anymore. No one does. And at the same time, I'm too afraid of being cast out and forgotten, of becoming invisible and unwanted to tell them no when they shove their responsibilities and chores on me. I wonder if that is entirely a lie or not. The lies are too deep and numerous for me to know.
Am I really afraid of that? Yes. No. Maybe.
So I just smile. "Sure," I say, and smile fakely, trying to show the pain and sadness I'm pretending to hide badly.
If I wanted, I could hide it with a mask of emotionlessness, but since that scares her, I won't. Besides, this way gets me more attention.
"Thanks."
And I smile that fake smile, and laugh half-genuinely at the little bits of life I find amusing. Always in my head.
I think I might be crazy, too.
Or so I assume. I don't know if that's entirely true, either. I just made it up, an educated guess, at a stretch. I suppose. I assume. Gah, I don't really know.
I'm also a coward and a clutz. And a rather bad person. I manipulate (or try to) and am selfish. I am more bothered by humanity as a whole than I take the time to appreciate it. I'd much rather stay in a world of my own conjuring than something that's real and tangible. But I'll never tell anyone this. Never. Because I want to appear to have a bit of a heart.
Whenever I tell someone (this has only happened once, mind you), I watch as their eyes widen and horror sets in. They start to comprehend the monster that I hide. The creature of sin and human desire. But I'm too afraid most times to act on that desire. Good thing she was too drunk to remember it, though I know it's forever set in her subconscious now.
She doesn't trust me anymore. No one does. And at the same time, I'm too afraid of being cast out and forgotten, of becoming invisible and unwanted to tell them no when they shove their responsibilities and chores on me. I wonder if that is entirely a lie or not. The lies are too deep and numerous for me to know.
Am I really afraid of that? Yes. No. Maybe.
So I just smile. "Sure," I say, and smile fakely, trying to show the pain and sadness I'm pretending to hide badly.
If I wanted, I could hide it with a mask of emotionlessness, but since that scares her, I won't. Besides, this way gets me more attention.
"Thanks."
And I smile that fake smile, and laugh half-genuinely at the little bits of life I find amusing. Always in my head.
I think I might be crazy, too.
In : Diary