“You start lying so much you become an honest man” — Me, just now. I think I might be some sort of genius with this paradoxical statement. Has it been said before? Whatever, I’m going to post it on my burner Twitter account. It reminds me of that time I asked my stand-up comedy professor what to do when a genius idea strikes and I want to quote myself. She told me it’s easy nowadays—just go ahead and post on Twitter. This was my professor for my stand-up comedy class, by the way.
Yes, I actually did take a stand-up comedy class, and my professor really did say that. I wanted to quote a joke about how all these rappers are always talking about making it out of the hood. I thought, “Whatever, I can relate. We’re kind of in the hood, and I like making out.” I don’t remember how many people laughed, but I didn’t post it on Twitter, so it’s still up for grabs if anyone wants to snag it.
While that’s true, I’ve told a lot of lies in my life, but I don’t want to make this about me. Let’s make it about everyone else. The fact is, everybody lies every single fucking day. Even when someone asks how you’re doing today, you probably lie. You lie not just for yourself but for others, too. Sometimes that makes you feel selfless, but let’s be real; the majority of the time, you’re just trying to make your own life easier. You might not even be having a great day, but you want to tell that person to go fuck themselves at work.
It makes me cringe hard when I hear people lying about their weekend plans, acting like they’re doing something exciting when they’re really just at home jerking off or binge-watching whatever garbage is on Netflix. And then there’s the extreme of lying to ourselves, convincing ourselves we’re better than we actually are. Is “faking it till you make it” a good strategy? I’ll admit I’ve faked it until I made it, but fuck, I don’t want to make this about me again.
Back to the point: we all lie every single day. Think about the first lie you ever told. You probably can’t remember it because it likely slipped out of your mouth as a kid when you were taught that sometimes you have to lie to make your parents happy. You realize that you have to lie a lot to keep a lot of people happy, and it gets sad when you realize you sometimes have to lie to yourself just to feel okay. You end up building this persona around these lies, feeding an ego that’s only been shaped by your fabrications.
I’ve heard rebuttals saying that lies are necessary for society—that we need them to function. But I ask: are any of the emotions we feel even real, or is it all just built on lies?
I talk to my friend (redacted) about this. (Redacted) goes on for a long time about how Allah made him who he is today. He tells me about a time in high school when he found himself in the girls’ restroom at prom with his date and her best friend. Apparently, they didn’t do anything wild; they just talked while sneaking some alcohol. But when he came out, his friends asked him if it was true that he’d done some crazy shit in there. (Redacted), being (redacted), told them he’d had a threesome, and suddenly he became a legend within his friend group. The truth is, at that time, (redacted) was a complete virgin and had only had his first kiss.
This was a self-fulfilling prophecy, somehow making him more appealing to girls. Of course, he still hadn’t had sex. Even a month later, he had only gotten head from his girlfriend and fingered her. Nothing close to a threesome. Deep down, this enraged him; he was so far from the lie he’d told. So, he broke up with his girlfriend, who said she wasn’t ready for sex yet, and then went on to tell everyone that he just needed more time. (Redacted) became this supposed sexual freak at 16, which attracted girls who claimed they were just as wild. Whether they were lying or not, he eventually found himself in bed with a handful of them, doing whatever he wanted.
At one point, (redacted) claimed a “body count” of five, while his friends thought it was 15. This was pretty damn impressive for a high school kid. What was even more impressive was when he claimed to have a “body count” of over 30 once he got to college when, in reality, he was probably at 12 or 13. It got to a point where it didn’t even matter anymore. (Redacted) started wondering if maybe the number he was saying wasn’t even high enough. Whatever—he couldn’t remember, so I guess at that point it became another lie. But it wasn’t a complete lie; he would tell his friends, “Dude, I just can’t remember,” giving them a range. By that point, it was probably within 30 to 40.
Fuck, there’s a small chance he was lying, and it could be close to 50. It was at that moment he let his ego fully consume him. The persona he had built in high school, desperately seeking female validation, had taken over. (Redacted) became a womanizer, and deep down, he wasn’t sure whether to be proud or disgusted with himself. The sad thing was, he felt more proud of it than anything else and thought he was superior to many of the guys around him. Regardless of how he truly felt, one thing is for sure: he still lies to himself every single day, and now the lies are just different.
The fucked-up thing is, the story above isn’t real. I have to come clean: I never talked to my friend (redacted), and honestly, I’m not sure if I even have a friend named (redacted). It’s kind of crazy because I have a lot of friends, but I don’t keep in contact with anyone named (redacted). And no, I don’t mean I’m lying to protect someone’s identity; I literally never got this story from anyone. But I guess it makes for a good illustration of the kind of shit we all go through.
So, yeah, we all lie, and it’s messy. The challenge is to sift through all this bullshit and confront our own truths, even when it’s uncomfortable. Maybe we can find some clarity in the chaos, something real to hold onto. No, I’m not done here. Part 2 soon, when I stop lying a bit less. Done for now (fuck cline)