LIAR

When it comes to character discernment, I am not the sharpest tool in the shed but I can smell liars from a far. They carry aura of ungodliness only associated with pretentious good-for-nothing-individuals who contribute nothing to the government’s corruption kitty (or taxes as it has been christened to since time immemorial). They talk big, and do nothing.

As you can see, liars are conspicuously visible. Not this one though. I call her ‘an incurable, pathological liar’. If what she wrote is anything to go by, this girl deserves a medal for lying. This is because I know her well. She has never portrayed the infamous liar traits and she religiously pays taxes. So bubbly and jovial even as she narrates her life (mis)fortunes that have shaped her into this gorgeous jewel of a beautiful mess. It all depends on how you see them. Nothing about her resembles a lie but then again, isn’t it true for all of us humans? Worth noting though, is she used the word lie and its linguistic variations 69 times. She has to be a liar. Now that’s 69.

 

She told me she had something she needed to get off her chest. What kind of a man would deny a lady a chance to be free from anything bugging her, much less her chest! Certainly not this man here.

And she wrote.

In her own words.

****************************************************************************

I lie. Let me put it more crudely, in case you did not get that, I am a LIAR. I am a tall, five feet seven, brown skin liar. Don’t you dare judge me I am trying to face my truth.  I am such a huge liar, so good and creative. When I tell a story, it is not enough without some juicy lies. I tell lies to spice up my life, to make stories more interesting. And so far, so good. Well, not entirely. I lie so well my life is dramatic, a mini series of some sort. I lie when am happy. I tell myself that I will remain as gay until am old and gray, when I know too well it is the stuff of lore. It will not happen. So I lie. It allows me to stay in my happy bubble a little longer. I lie when am sad. I tell myself that it is not that bad, when I know I have hit my rock bottom. But that lie, that lie that it could be worse, gives me hope. Some small hope that things will get better. So I lie. I lie about things I am going through, the struggles I have.

I lie at my job. A lot. I tell my boss I have done the assignment; that he will have the presentation in an hour, when I have not even started to think about it. I lie. You know why I lie? Because it makes me look hardworking. You know who else is hardworking? NOT ME!! I am lazy, non-committed, (is that even a word?). I am too lazy to check it out anyway. So I Lie. I lie to keep my job. Because it would be really bad if I was jobless, and lazy! Then I would truly hit rock bottom. I lie. This lie… oh this lie. This lie allows me to keep my job. It allows me to keep my landlord paid. It keeps him so paid; he can take a vacation to the States. You know who has never been to the United States of America. Me! I have not even set my foot in an international airport. But this lie gets people – other people there. This is the kind of lie that gets me a paycheck! Every month, like clockwork.

I like this lie. Actually, I love this lie.

I lie in my relationships. I lie because I care. When you call and I do not answer, because I just want to hide from you and your demands, I will lie. I will tell you that I misplaced my phone. Or it was swallowed by a monster. Anything but the truth. And why didn’t I call back? Because, well, because that call was never registered on my call log. ‘I think I need a new phone. This phone has been acting up lately!’ I lie because if I told you that I don’t wanna talk, well, that would hurt your feelings, and I care about your feelings. This is not a lie. But I care for your feelings more for my own sake than it is for you. I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want you to hate me. I need you to love me. Because truth be told, you will run for the hills if you knew I am an arrogant, selfish, self-absorbed, weird, a little psycho liar. I don’t want you to run. Not for the hills or valleys. Or anything for that matter. So I lie. I lie to keep people here. To keep you invested.  This lie, this lie keeps me loved. Who does not want to be loved?

So yes. I am a fat-a** liar. You know who else lies? Everyone! We lie because we want to be accepted. We lie because we are afraid. We lie because we lack the courage to face the truth. We tell big lies, like why we are late. We tell small lies, like “I just have a headache today”. We lie when we do not have to. We lie when we would rather say we are just around the corner and we have not even left the house. We lie when we say we are not tribal. We lie when we say we are religious. We lie when we say that education is the key. It is not. There is no key to this life. Your pastor lies. This is not your year of breakthrough; well it will not be, if you keep binge watching on 9 seasons of how I met your mother. You know why? While you are sleeping, someone else is making the new tech, the next big idea. Busy. Innovating. Meeting new people.

This year belongs to these people and not you. Because you would rather hide. Hiding is so safe, so convenient, and so easy. Who wants the hustle? The sweat, the grind? None. Not me either. So we lie. We lie as if our lives depended on it. We lie even to ourselves and say we are satisfied. That life could not be any better. That we are happy with our situation, that we are satisfied with our income. We lie. But again, here is the next big lie. That money is everything. It is not. It will never be.  So we are all a bunch of liars.

As I said, lying has never been a problem. Until I wanted to own my life – which meant I get to own my truth.  The truth that I am not genuinely, wholly and truthfuly myself. That am scared.  That I could so much more. Be a better human. That I could care a little, no, a lot more than I do now. That I can go the extra mile, that I can wake up a little earlier, I could read a little more, I can contribute to my life a little extra, I can give some of movie time to my friends, to my baby, to my work, to my church, to a stranger. I can be more. I should be more.

I lie. I rob myself the opportunity to be better. So no more lies. Here is to my truth:

Challenge number one. BE MORE. Be more of everything you want. If you are loud, be a little louder. Be more pursuant. Be more elaborate. Be more understanding. Be more in love. Be more in laughter.

Challenge number two. BE HONEST. Cry when you want to. Shout when you need to. Dance. Sing in the shower, in the kitchen. Do not pretend. Do not be afraid to bear your heart for the things you want. Be honest with yourself. Be real. Do you booboo!!

 

FAITH, The Liar.

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