A Rant About Liars (written several years ago)

12 Sep

Quiet. Dark quiet. It’s all i request. It’s all i long for. Under the right circumstances (neither alcohol nor chemical induced) I can sometimes acheive an abbreviated state of tranquility. A faux solace. Similar to the calm most people masquerade around in.

The difference, however, with the rest of the world is simply that most on this dying rock we call home are scared, shivering little children trying to play dress up, acting like grown ups who have “the answers”.

They tell bold-faced lies to themselves and those they love in a desperate attempt to make themselves fit into some category they feel makes them a better person simply for being a part of. To make themselves “more” in the worlds’ eyes. The cool kids in high school. The clique so many could not get in… not without an invitation.

And the more these sad little individuals spin their tales of woe and grandeur, of heartbreak and heroism for the rest of the world, the more confused they become about who they are. Confused about their lives, their jobs, their friends, the music they see as “cool” because somebody’s top 40 list told them… “make it so”…

You are not you’re fucking khaki’s… indeed.

I shroud myself in quiet. Every. Single. Chance. I. Get.

Calm, silent, black, odorless, tasteless, motionless… here i find peace. Here. Here I smile a contented half grin of “this may not be as good as it gets, but it’s as good as it gets right this minute”

Outside my shroud of melancholy bliss I have chosen a life as free from the venom of the lies as I can. Without the puncture wounds inflicted on my spirit from the chaotic confusion created by the tumultuous falsifications spun to catch the approving eye of the strangers who may pass by.

I don’t understand what is so difficult with the fucking truth.

And what I receive from trying to be a “good person” (which we’ll outline in another session at a later date girls and boys) is pain.

It is easier in this day and age of latte’s, tea-cup sized dogs that take rodent sized shits and Scientology to lie your way into meaningful relationships than to actually create them. Form them.

I have text on my phone! YOU have text TOO??!! UHH-MA-GAWT! We’re practically best friends already!!!

Fake. It’s takes alot of hard work, time and effort to be able to pull off fake well. And so many people do it.

These people have no tolerance for those who are even remotely honest. To be honest is to be expelled immediately from the “cool kids”. To be ex-communicated from “real” society. Those people pose a threat. They threaten to expose the liars, the cheats, the fakes and phonies. Simply by being honest.

These people, being so adept at lying and creating, spinning these wild fairytales, try to create a facade of vibrant color, of beautiful images to captivate the eye and mind, hence capturing the emotions.

Dark. Colorless. Lacking the beautiful images… Dark is where I find peace for a moment at a time. Quiet is what fuels my love for life. Breath is what cleanses me of the impurities i take in every waking moment… and so many don’t understand. The thought of calm is a threat. The cool, crisp breeze bites at them with the threat of bringing them back to the reality they know is there. They just won’t let themselves see it anymore. Why?

Quiet. Dark quiet. It’s all i request. It’s all i long for.

I’ll breathe deeply the comfort it affords me. Until Im okay again.

Until I no longer need the dark.


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