I'm wondering how I ever got that strange compulsion for total truthfulness. I mean, in theory, it's not a bad thing. You play straight with someone and they play straight with you. Everything's on the table, the world should be fabulous. Back in the day when I actually was in possession of that youthful naivete and I began to think I actually sought out shady characters, the truth was elusive and necessary but hardly ever present. After that, I got on that damned truth kick. It made life with Mr. Sailor interesting. Always blabbing about my feelings, being so fucking open, ultimately doing the mental anguish to myself. The relentlessness of giving up the deep truth is tiring. I'm trying to get with being satisfied being a naturally curious person that will ask if I desperately want know something. The spontaneous offering of information that is ultimately going to drive me mad with my thoughts is getting the gasface today. Isn't there another option besides lies and too much honesty?
Posted by Candicissima at September 12, 2003 10:33 PM