Lies. Everyone lies. Even those like me who some would call the most truthful person they have ever met; lie. I lie all the time. I mostly do it to make an actual event a little more interesting or to highlight an unfairness or to put myself in a more positive favor to the person listening to me. Here’s an example:

Once, I worked at a restaurant and my shift manager had a crush on me and while I was preparing food for storage in the back I felt him brush his crotch against my butt. It could have been accident, the kitchen is a busy and sometimes tight place. Or he could have done it on purpose because he wanted to rub his dick on my ass. But that’s not important. If I were to tell the story in person it would sound like this:

	“I’ve had a sexual encounter at work. Once, my shift manager approached me in the walk-in refrigerator. He squeezed my ass and then started kissing me. Oh yeah, I liked it. No we never had sex.”

Sometimes I tell big lies. Completely fabricated events that literally never happened. But I tell them to get my emotions across. No, I don’t think I’ll tell an example of one of those lies. Instead, I think I’ll tell a joke. Ready?

“My writing is engaging.” ha
“My writing is worth anyone on Earth reading.” ha ha
“My writing will surely get published.” HAHAHA

Those are lies for the sake of comedy. I think that’s what a joke is. Truth is I’m a joke. Just look at me. Barely even able to continue existing. My ending will come in fire. If you read this and want to track me down like a fucking loser that you are. Or, worse, want to know “where I am now.” Don’t. Fuck you. Because when I wrote this you weren’t there and if anything I ever write makes my existence known to you; that doesn’t change the fact that I don’t know you, I don’t like you and I hate you. Truly.











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Relax. I’m only lying.