Thursday, April 7, 2011

The Truth Behind Lying

Love. You feel it? There's something strangely nostalgic about walking through a crowded shopping center and watching the love-struck, invincible duo, weeks away from implementing the knowledge gained from that book on nautical rope-works that your sea-faring grandfather left on your diner table years ago and tying the knot way later in the sentence than the punch-line should have been.  Like the 3 musketeers after that one guy died and the other guy who replaced him got electrocuted by an eel, they parade through the isle armed with I Want This Guns, blasting everything with their registry lasers, everyone with their smiles and every career dream with their hopes of getting married. Her shimmering dumbbell that some call a ring blinds all who pass as their smiles explode like hand grenades; forcing obnoxious amounts of happiness-shrapnel into everyone's faces. It's spring; and more than the rosy cheeks and escalating flowers prove such. In the spring of their love, romance blooms like tiny flowers pushing up through the dust, held together by the confidence that his arms will be the blanket that keeps her warm through the winter years...that and the blanket she just laser beamed with her buy me this cannon. Plants need does fertilize her...and fill the world with tiny little babies and other little human, baby-human things. Hope it works out for you, overly happy, cheezy-joke telling, hyper jock guy and smoking hot despite your incredibly unrealistic height but your perky smile and charming personality make up for it girl. I miss your joy. Treat her like a queen, good sir. Trust with all you have, pray to God she's honest and treat her like a queen regardless...forever...  

Honesty. Remember it? It's that age-old, ancient practice of telling the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth; so help me God, I feel like this behavior is far from prevalent in our society. While we all smile at the nostalgic tales of chopping trees, *happy sigh* walking miles to deliver change, *proud grin* and the inability to tell a lie *uproarious clapping*, our daily actions leave these stories seeming more like mere works of fiction rather than depictions of true human behavior. In a way, I guess they are. After a rigorous counting exercise, I discovered there are a grand total of zero cherry trees at Mt Vernon. Meaning...either ol' George went to freaking town with his Paul Bunion-esque lumbering tendencies or the whole story is contrived around myth and is complete and utter BS; thus proving this entire work of literary genius correct. In truth, however, through experience and simple observation it appears that our principle goal in nearly everything is simply self furtherance and the fulfillment of whatever the underlying motive may be. Whether the ulterior goal is to further a career, learn the interior, molecular structure of the Atlantic Blue Whale or become the leading synthetic goat skin manufacturer in the greater south-eastern region, our motives motivate us to stay motivated for our true goal; us. What happened to selflessness? Who jumped sacrifice and left her bleeding and lifeless, floating face down in the estuary? Who shot decency through the heart and replaced his nobility with shameless self-promotion? It saddens me that, through an endless list of contacts, I have more clean shaven, middle eastern friends than I do those I would trust with even the lightest of situations. We've allowed ourselves to slip into a world where fear drives us and a lack of trust sustains us to the point that honesty and openness scare the living death out of our very being. Locked away in shells like clams, we hide from the truth behind our quarantine signs in attempt to protect ourselves from the world outside; all the while spreading the disease and and feeding the rampant outbreak by doing so. An epidemic of deceit. A widespread plague with a cure that we all possess.    

Fetus. Push. Despite our endless attempts to conceal it, we're all hiding from something. We all lie about something. Whether it be to ourselves or to the world, we all play pirate. We each bury our emotions on deserted islands, conceal them with X's and construct a means of recovering them we never will reveal. We sort out our fears with the parrot hanging over our shoulder as we wave our pointed hooks at those we fear and turn our blinded, eye-patched eye on the flaws of those we love. Don't believe me? Trust me...I'm lying too. Regardless, there's still trust in the world; just ask the swooning, moonstruck lovers and you'll find hope, dependency and purity in that single, unfaltering emotion we call love. There's still honesty; just don't ask any politician or televangelist. There's still self-sacrifice; just look at the endless bags of lifelessness delivered to the homes of mourning families while war rages on forever. For the rest of us, there's birth. We're so locked away in our routine insecurity and terrified of feeling things that we need to be reborn. Kick through that cozy little shell, break through the walls of conformity, hack off the umbilical chord and fetus plunge face first into the world that we're supposed to be living in and truly live. Rebirth trust. Rebirth honesty. Rebirth life.
Strength to change. define it...

No comments: