I know I’ve written about truth before. And how it matters. To say that I have never told a lie would be a lie. And while it would be easy to categorize my brand of lies as omissions or “white” lies, the fact is, a lie is a lie and I’m guilty of bending the truth…okay I’ll say it…lying.
That being said I consider myself to be an honest person. What you see is what you get. I don’t have a separate online persona. If you ask me a question I will most always give you an honest answer. Um…except for those trick questions. You know the ones. Ask me if something makes you look fat, and I’ll likely try to defer the question or fudge the truth saying, ”define fat” or “maybe orange isn’t your color”. (Fingers crossed behind my back, eyes rolling).
The thing is, when I do let honesty slip a few notches, I feel horrible. I break out in a sweat, my stomach churns and I avoid eye contact at all costs. It takes me hours, sometimes longer to get over it. I’m not a good liar. I believe most of us are like this. We don’t easily resort to lying. Our moral compass is relatively intact. We can be trusted. Our word means something.
All this makes the current state of our society feel like an upside down, inside out, nightmare. We are fed a daily dose of whoppers by our president and those trying to defend him. And those who oppose him are not immune to bending the truth either, especially when an exaggeration or twisted truth supports their cause du jour.
What is a society to do when finding the truth is an effort? Most people won’t expend the energy. They’ll just go on with living and hope for the best. And they don’t like it when you point out that something is a lie. I know. I’ve tried. I’ve stopped trying. It’s a dilemma. I often wish I could just go about my day, ignoring the lies. But I can’t.
Reality sucks. I get it now. That catchy phrase you see on bumper stickers and spray-painted on shadowy underpasses. Reality does suck. Call me crazy, but seeing those words scrawled on a wall or a bridge brings me comfort. It tells me I’m not the only person on the planet who is awake. But oh, some days I feel so tired.
Peace out my peeps.
Sunday’s Week in Reverse – 3 March 2019
stirring my wild tendencies
precious moments that are everything
something’s terribly wrong
a nod or a knowing glance
making me stumble again
middling to high, hot hell to beat
things like reality and facts
it’s playing always, in my heart
A ReVerse poem is a summary poem with a single line lifted from each entry of a collection of work over a particular timeframe and re-penned in chronological order as a new poem. Unlike a collaborative poem, the ReVerse features the words of one writer, providing a glimpse into their thoughts over time. I use it as a review of the previous week.