somfort me
This entry is, and must be, about is how I felt this early afternoon, because today I had an experience that everyone would do well to suffer through at least once in their lives.
I had a secret, and it was a good one, one of those really good, juicy secrets that change everything once they get out. And I’m a good keeper of secrets, I’m an amazing liar, a re-director, a mis-director. I can hide your secrets where no one can find them, deep inside me, hidden even from myself, from my own memory of hearing them in the first place.
The best lies, the most perfect lies, are in themselves a form of truth, in that you must convince yourself you believe them before you ever begin to tell them. If I want to lie to you about even the simplest thing, say perhaps I decide to lie to you about whether I bought a lottery ticket today, the process is enormous.
You must imagine the lottery itself, know the payout for the week. You have to decide where you bought the ticket, and what you spent on it, and how many tickets you bought. What was the weather like? Were there other people in the store? Perhaps a mom and her two kids, maybe a teenager listening to an ipod. Maybe there was a lineup, maybe the cash register was down at the moment. Maybe this, maybe that. Maybe anything. But you’ve got to choose, got to be fluid with it; every question needs an answer, every angle needs to be explored, dreamed up, and you’ve got to step into this world you design with ease and comfortability.
That way, if asked if you’ve bought a lottery ticket, you can answer, simply, ‘Yup, got one earlier,’ and that line, that lie, the misdirection and falsification, the story, the kid with the ipod, it’s all there, it happened… you just told the truth, an indifferent truth, about an entirely fabricated scenario. These are the best, most powerful lies.
What defense does your victim have against such deception? So far removed from the fight would they be, they are engaged and beaten before they knew what had happened, and they would be worked, and compelled, into the reality set before them.
But, I wander. My point.
I wrote once, somewhere in here, that I suspected myself of sabotage. It’s not unheard of. If I feel a thing, or think a thing, that on one level or another I disapprove of, I’ve developed a pestering reflex to simply bury it. Put differently, I lie to myself about it’s existance, a graceful, flawless lie of omission, and a happy excuse switched into it’s place with the slightest of sleight of hand.
But today.. today I was ambushed. Today, that secret that I thought I had so well hidden away and camouflaged, it stole away from my heart and ran free, ran well away from my chains I’d shackled it up in, and it chased her down… and told her all about it.
And I could do nothing but watch. It was as if I’d practiced for a lifetime to walk proudly into battle with a thing, and upon rounding to corner to the arena, I just dropped the sword and shield and fell prone and cried.
I watched as the words bubbled up out of me, were stolen from my mouth. Nietzsche tells us our conscience will kiss us as it bites; and my, what a kiss… I was helpless, bound by my own good sense, and I said a thing that while I will tell you I never should have said… if I had waited one fucking moment longer, the stress of it all would have killed me.
You think you can prepare yourself for a thing, understand it to be a test of endurance, a patience, a long haul… and with a grim jaw and a steady hand you turn to face it.
But the really beautiful things in this world will take you straight to a knee, and bend you to their will, and you will learn that there are bigger things than our precious choices and decisions and wills and needs and wants, and these beautiful moments will have our way with us as they please.
And in the face of it all, I said: “I love you.”
I will never take those words back, even if by some magic and phantom’s blessing, I were able to. There was nothing more *right* to say at the time.
Everyone should be allowed their secrets; but some secrets are not ours to keep.
~ Driz
ex movere 