Lying is the absolute worst.
“No, I wasn’t drinking. What the hell are you talking about?”
Telling lies. To another person. Makes them crazy. They start to question their own sanity.
Someone has a pretty good idea about something and then we go and sow a row of doubt. It’s twofold. Not only are we handing them a flat out lie, we’re also giving them personal conflict. We’re insisting they stop questioning us and question themselves.
Self-doubt is one of the worst things we can serve somebody. It’s a car wreck for the soul. Twisted metal and broken headlights. Sure, the fender can be bent back but it’ll never be true.
It’s funny that we tell our kids that it’s not what they did that was so bad, it was that they lied about it. And then we grow up as adults and do the same thing. But on a Rushmore, monumental level.
I don’t know about you guys but if someone lies to me that’s just it.
I wrote the above back in August. And then it just sat there not feeling finished.
It’s all fine and good but it’s also abstract. The real stories in life aren’t. The car crash here is that I lied to somebody yesterday. A flat out lie as mentioned above. First time I can remember since I stopped drinking.
I lied because I don’t like this person. I don’t trust them. Being honest gives them ammunition and I don’t like the thought of loading bullets into an unstable person’s gun.
I am kind of disappointed in myself, though. Lying goes against what I believe, who I want to be. In all situations. In all dilemmas.
However, I don’t feel too bad for lying to this particular person. They lie to me on the bimonthly basis, the latest just this past week. I know they lied because I looked it up. I didn’t crucify this person for it but I wanted to. I mean really wanted to.
I could justify the whole situation with some notion about how spiritual truths need not apply in all situations. Cold wars and nuclear armaments. I won’t make more of a case than that because I don’t really have one. Plastic tanks and toy soldiers, peeps.
Would I do it again? Tell a flat out lie? Probably not but I don’t know. Sometimes somebody shines a hot spotlight on us and shit just happens. I don’t like how I feel about lying for sure. I don’t like playing the odds that I’ll get caught. Driving fast doesn’t appeal to me anymore. I don’t want to smash up, crash up somebody’s fender.
So there’s my confession. Two Jim Carrolls and a bottle of wine.