Underwhelming Truth

There are times in life when it all appears too shiny. Like cellophane wrapped candies that no body could possible digest. At these times, is it best to talk about it or not?

I used to say something, but all it ever gained me was trouble, for no one wants to know that which lies beyond the shiny. Today I fake it. I am all shiny, all the time. There are not even seams anymore. Hell, I am becoming a lawyer; and all lawyers do is spin things in their client's favor. While that is a great task, it admittedly does have an element of disengenuousness to it.

I tell the truth, as lies are far to hard to keep track of, but I am a chronic omitter. In fact, I advocate omitting things. I tell people all the time how no one ever needs to know all your secrets. I tell my girlfriends never to tell their "number" to anyone, much less their boyfriend. I told a friend after she told me she cheated, to just not tell anyone else, especially not her boyfriend, as it would only hurt him, which is true. Furthermore, if she does not want to leave him, what is the point? I also do not talk about my family. I told my fiance nothing about my family for three years, and only told him hours before he met them, their names.

I tell the truth, just not the whole truth unless asked a pointed question. The truth is not liberating. I would argue, that it is in fact rather constricting. The less we say about ourselves, the greater rein we give to those around us to think highly of us. If everyone knew everything about each other, there would be no one to idolize.

Often times when the pretty clothes come off there are stretch marks and cellulite, and who wants that?