big hypocrits are we.
carefully, cautiously we manufacture our speeches to cut out anything negtively reflecting. movie editing, with the actual interesting parts cut out, just so the protagonist is, in fact, a hero.
chosen words, is all we allow for ourselves.
its not just the public eye, its the inner eye we throw filth into, desperately trying to hide our flaws from ourown self.
fucking hypocrits.
i'd like to think that at somepoint, one would feel over burdend with untold truth, and that inner eye, burning and itching will begin to flow, washing all the garbage out.
its not about the lies. its about the concept of 'half-truth'. half truth is all we really need to get what we want. want to go out with the girl sitting across the room? she knows your wife died. did you tell her where you bought the arsenic from? you want that prestigious university scholarship and you're an ace student, but do you write about, in your resume, those three wild, drug and sex ridden months in goa? when you cheat, its always the other persons fault.
but the truth is, no one will ever know you like you want them too. as stupid emotional humans, we have a need to be understood. through our lives we are, consciously or unconsciously, looking for someone to fucking understand you. but half the truth is all there ever is.
dont be naiive. dont build pretences. you are not smarter than the rest. try looking at you from the outside. you are pathetic. get a fucking hold on your self. and an least give it half the truth. because from where i see, the carefully, caustiously selected side of your story is way to one dimensional for me to belive.
you know who you are.
dont you?
carefully, cautiously we manufacture our speeches to cut out anything negtively reflecting. movie editing, with the actual interesting parts cut out, just so the protagonist is, in fact, a hero.
chosen words, is all we allow for ourselves.
its not just the public eye, its the inner eye we throw filth into, desperately trying to hide our flaws from ourown self.
fucking hypocrits.
i'd like to think that at somepoint, one would feel over burdend with untold truth, and that inner eye, burning and itching will begin to flow, washing all the garbage out.
its not about the lies. its about the concept of 'half-truth'. half truth is all we really need to get what we want. want to go out with the girl sitting across the room? she knows your wife died. did you tell her where you bought the arsenic from? you want that prestigious university scholarship and you're an ace student, but do you write about, in your resume, those three wild, drug and sex ridden months in goa? when you cheat, its always the other persons fault.
but the truth is, no one will ever know you like you want them too. as stupid emotional humans, we have a need to be understood. through our lives we are, consciously or unconsciously, looking for someone to fucking understand you. but half the truth is all there ever is.
dont be naiive. dont build pretences. you are not smarter than the rest. try looking at you from the outside. you are pathetic. get a fucking hold on your self. and an least give it half the truth. because from where i see, the carefully, caustiously selected side of your story is way to one dimensional for me to belive.
you know who you are.
dont you?
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