Today I learned the importance of lying. Not like I didn’t have a clue before – sometimes I wonder, how, indeed, did I make it so far, by being good old naive idealistic me, how fucking lucky I must have been, kissed by fate, eh, you might say, for even being able to take one step away from my cozy little nest, believing in the value of truth, of ideals, of virtue and wits. How??
None of it matters. What matters is how quick you are at lying. On your feet. Tell them what they want to hear, manipulate. Puppets on a string — well, I learn the hard way. I hated the feeling, when I was young, I thought it was a cultural thing. I thought I was going to find a place where truth would matter, but alas! I should have paid better attention – turns out, a place where truth prospers does not exist. It’s a paradox of time and space. You can either be a wretched fool, philosopher, an artist of a human soul, or a dead fish, swimming with the current, swimming “freely,” in an abundance of success.
Infuriating. Not enough. Or just sad? Sometimes I wish I could turn my grief to anger! Anger is productive, I get shit done when I’m angry. I set goals. I make plans. Grief is just – exhausting.
27 Dec. 2012