There's this old phrase that goes "Life is in the details"
And I love it
One, because it is true
And two, because it is so easy to abuse
Not to say that I'm a constant liar
Or that I'm not...
Or that I didn't mean-mug the poop out of those girls that one time when I told you I did
Or that I didn't mutter "I won't kill you... not yet" in my "sleep" that other time after my roommate had sex with a random while I was in the room
Whether you believe these to be more lies to cover already standing ones or not is up to you
But funny enough,
I deem myself an honest person.
No really, I do.
Honest in the same way that dolphins are kinda sorta fish vs. mammals and
Honest in the same way that an unknowingly colorblind kid might say his favorite color is red, and we would have that in common, being that my favorite color is, in the non color deficient world, green.
You know, because he's colorblind and sometimes they're switched or something.
Hones in the same way that I would tell my coach I didn't go to practice because I was busy with "school stuff"- as if I'm not still busy every other day of the semester
Honest in the same way that that stupid dress IS white and gold or blue and black, but it all depends on who you ask
But I keep those ending (too honest) parts to myself
You see, it's all about perspective.
Lies of omission in many ways aren't quite lies- labeled that only by those who misuse or complain about them- stemming from their own inability to ask calculated, leading questions.
I am no Joker or Riddler... or my mother,
"Mommy can I have that Bionicle?"
"Eh... no maybe next time"
"Promise?"
"Promise"
327 Next times later and I still want that freaking Bionicle mom.
Anyway,
I will answer questions when asked.
And when put under fire, flags and banners marking my allegiance to the grey of this black and white life aflame and walls crumbling- will swing from banister to banister, hop up staircase after hidden colorless staircase,
and tuck away through smoky secret connecting passages within my shapeless fortress of ambiguities to keep myself safe with silver tongue and thought on my feet.
Again, If need be I will only answer questions when asked.
But do not I assume I will answer those that aren't.
If life is in the details, keeping them out of things,
stories and events becoming bland organ-less creatures I let my inquisitors fumble and babble with,
I find,
To be not in the least bit gutless, but rather artful.
Why blubber on in candor and bind myself consequently to outside entities' crusades when I can live on in peace?
No.
You will have to work for it.
I withhold information from others,
Not to harm or instigate, trust me on this.
But rather,
To free myself.
Because again, life is in the details,
And sometimes the details are just for me.
And I love it
One, because it is true
And two, because it is so easy to abuse
Not to say that I'm a constant liar
Or that I'm not...
Or that I didn't mean-mug the poop out of those girls that one time when I told you I did
Or that I didn't mutter "I won't kill you... not yet" in my "sleep" that other time after my roommate had sex with a random while I was in the room
Whether you believe these to be more lies to cover already standing ones or not is up to you
But funny enough,
I deem myself an honest person.
No really, I do.
Honest in the same way that dolphins are kinda sorta fish vs. mammals and
Honest in the same way that an unknowingly colorblind kid might say his favorite color is red, and we would have that in common, being that my favorite color is, in the non color deficient world, green.
You know, because he's colorblind and sometimes they're switched or something.
Hones in the same way that I would tell my coach I didn't go to practice because I was busy with "school stuff"- as if I'm not still busy every other day of the semester
Honest in the same way that that stupid dress IS white and gold or blue and black, but it all depends on who you ask
But I keep those ending (too honest) parts to myself
You see, it's all about perspective.
Lies of omission in many ways aren't quite lies- labeled that only by those who misuse or complain about them- stemming from their own inability to ask calculated, leading questions.
I am no Joker or Riddler... or my mother,
"Mommy can I have that Bionicle?"
"Eh... no maybe next time"
"Promise?"
"Promise"
327 Next times later and I still want that freaking Bionicle mom.
Anyway,
I will answer questions when asked.
And when put under fire, flags and banners marking my allegiance to the grey of this black and white life aflame and walls crumbling- will swing from banister to banister, hop up staircase after hidden colorless staircase,
and tuck away through smoky secret connecting passages within my shapeless fortress of ambiguities to keep myself safe with silver tongue and thought on my feet.
Again, If need be I will only answer questions when asked.
But do not I assume I will answer those that aren't.
If life is in the details, keeping them out of things,
stories and events becoming bland organ-less creatures I let my inquisitors fumble and babble with,
I find,
To be not in the least bit gutless, but rather artful.
Why blubber on in candor and bind myself consequently to outside entities' crusades when I can live on in peace?
No.
You will have to work for it.
I withhold information from others,
Not to harm or instigate, trust me on this.
But rather,
To free myself.
Because again, life is in the details,
And sometimes the details are just for me.
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