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wip
Before we start, take a second to look back on your day and realize how much you've probably lied throughout it.
It's pathetic, really, how much we depend on false words to get ourselves through our convoluted lives. We exaggerate, pull things out of nowhere, and sugar-coat every little event with so much sugar that it becomes sickly sweet. Over time we build our web of lies, and in order to appear genuine in front of other people, must strengthen this web until we, the creators, can easily forget it's not truth. Eventually, this knotted web begins to hold us down rather than help us. Ties that bind.
I hate lying. I know all of this, and yet I continue to do so, almost compulsively. I don't even tell people my real name anymore.
If anything, I blame our society for letting me become what I've become- a cheat, a thief, a scoundrel behind a pretty pink mask. You're chosen for a position because of the speech you can produce, not necessarily the spirit behind the speech. The best-sounding people get the best futures, so we force ourselves to become the perfect, amazing people that only truly exist in fiction. Everything becomes a competition. Why can't we accept who we are as enough?
If it's any consolation to myself, I'm pretty good at what I do.
In reality, I'm a bit of an uninteresting being, even dislikable to some. There were no big ups or downs in my life, and as a result I'm apathetic about most things. Children frustrate me, as do optimists and people who talk too much. I've never truly loved anyone, either. I try, I really do, but it simply doesn't come naturally to me. So I pretend.
To the world, I'm quite the charmer, if I may say so myself. I'm certainly polite, and while not exactly 'bubbly', I giggle and blush in the right places to make myself seem as adorable as possible. There's something about being pink and small and feminine that makes people create assumptions about your personality without even talking to you, and I've used that to my advantage for as long as I can remember. The falsified history I've given others is dotted with color, as opposed to my true, grayscale past, as well.
That isn't to say that there aren't things I like about myself. I'm definitely intelligent, certainly more sensible than most, and hopeful for the future, if not enough to be an optimist. While I haven't found anyone I can genuinely love yet, I like to think that it's because I haven't met anyone without hiding behind my mask. Bravery is one of the things I have difficulty with, and I dream that one day I will be able to face the world honestly, and create myself anew. ♥