What beautiful liars we are in our little sector of humanity.
When we're not lying to our closest, we are often lying to ourselves.
Ok, not the brightest start to my latest post, but, as always, it's an observation that I have been making of late. and when it comes to lying, I have, in the past of course, been quite the culprit.
I guess is starts when we are first dodging the accusations in high school. "You're a fag!"; "No I'm not!".
It then expands as we find our first same-sex love. "Are you sure that you two are just friends?"; "Of course we are. Do you think we're gay or something?"
When we're out and proud and working our way through the dating scene the lies become a little less defensive and a little more sophisticated. You see it most on Gaydar when you are asked on a date by someone who is failing to ring your bell. "I'm not really looking for anyone right now," you counter, despite your profile stating that you are on the hunt for a boyfriend, activity partner, friendship and action.
Somewhere between us being 19-year-old twinks and a 46-year-old bears the lies become a little more socially acceptable, mostly because they are just downright clever. Rather than calling the boss and admitting that we squeezed a little too much of Sunday out of that Sunday Session, we say we're sick... often invoking the best of our NIDA training to produce a cough here, a croak there and a whole lotta nasal congestion. Thankfully the boss wasn't likely to have heard about Flamingos Third Birthday Party on Saturday night that led into the "recovery" on Sunday at your place that is still going while you're trying to call work.
I have a theory. I reckon lies are what hold our community together.
You walk into your local latte joint. "How are you today?"
The answer is usually a polite, "Yeah, good thanks" - despite catching the BF cheating on you yesterday afternoon.
You answer the door to those snappy-dressed Mormons. "No, No, I am busy." You were sitting on the lounge in your slippers and boxers watching porn.
The boys are organising dinner. They suggest seafood at Mure's. "Oh, no, I'm allergic to seafood." You're not, but your ex works there.
Tell me lies, tell me sweet little lies. They are what our society is built on.
What beautiful liars we are in our little sector of humanity.
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