Warning: You are about to read a million lies

People, do me a favor. Will you please stare at that pic on the sidebar and tell me if it is the face of someone who would lie? In short, with the honesty in the almost 200 posts in this weblog, would you say that I am someone crazy enough to come up with a big, fat lie? Someone did.

I lied.

"I love you" is not the shortest statement that renders massive repercussions. "I lied" is.

"I lied", with your signature smirk when you're nervous.

Weren't you this? I try to forget how you said it - your voice, your face - but it stuck in my head, like Marilyn Monroe's imprints at Mann's Chinese Theater - concise and permanent. It's something that was easily overshadowed with the event that took place that same night, though. I didn't care if you claim you lied [Heck, I didn't even blog about it.]; the fact you were man enough to confess was all that mattered.

I sat there, nervously making circles with the moist of my caramel frappe, half laughing and half crying, when she told me you've been telling the brods that "we" ended because I lied about this. Hold up, you believe I lied about it?!

First off, if my memory serves me right, our music came to a halt because of this. This blog has an average of 20 visitors per day and they are not intellectually-incapacitated homo sapiens like you obviously are. I deem they can tell when what they're reading is bull or true. So, tell me, who lied between the two of us?

Second, do you truly believe I would lie about something as serious as THAT? I wouldn't stoop low as to lie about me being ill. I wouldn't even lie about my RIVALS being ill. It's not my idea of fun. You weren't even supposed to know. But your fucking brods whom I fucking trusted decided you would care to know. What do you think would I get if I lied about something like that, huh? Pity? Special treatment? Those were the same reasons why I didn't want YOU to find out. I didn't want you to turn all sweety-sweety with me again just cause there is a possibility I'd be a real angel pretty soon, which, needless to say, was exactly how you acted.

Third, was I not your "Traffic Angel"? Your "pretty angel who almost left" you but didn't because I was gullible good enough to give you a chance to prove that you are different, that "it just so happened I met Ludwig first" [I now realize it was all in the context of misapprehension]? Do you think angels lie? Is it not unfitting to call the same person "angel" and "liar"?!

Liars go to hell.
Angels are in heaven.
Heaven is not hell and hell is not heaven.
Therefore, liars are not angels and angels are not liars.

                              [a->b]
                              [c->d]
                              [d->~b^b->~d]
                              [a->~c^c->~a]

Basic premises of logic. Is this too much for your peanut of a brain which can only process medical terms? You want me to construct the truth table to show this is a tautology?

There is a thin line between love and hate. It's something not easy for me to cross. One raison d'être that could provoke me to is an insult. Never ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever [is that enough ever yet?] say anything that would step on my dignity. I call myself bitch, loser, stupid, even whore at times, but I have the license to make fun of myself. Actually, I don't give a damn even if other people say these things about me. But it would never be okeiii, not in this lifetime nor in the next, if I am accused of lying. For the record, I never lied to you. I totally bared my soul to you. I did not even keep one single detail about my past with Ludwig from you.

Okeiii, if you still believe I lied, if you really want me to say those two painful words, I lied. I did. I admit.

I lied. I lied. I lied. I lied. I lied.
I lied. I lied. I lied. I lied. I lied.
I lied. I lied. I lied. I lied. I lied.
I lied. I lied. I lied. I lied. I lied.
I lied. I lied. I lied. I lied. I lied.
I lied. I lied. I lied. I lied. I lied.

But the only lie I ever told you was that I lied about the AA thingy, implying my physician's fucking diagnosis was faux pas. The physician my parents trust with the whole family's well-being is fucking incompetent.

Yes, that was my lips. Lips that are now pale and chapping without the aid of a lipgloss. That's my lie. I hide my weakness behind make-up and false energy. I lied because, I thought things between us would get better and I didn't want this health flaw to perturb you.

You could've easily said,"You lied. You're not sick at all. What am I doing with you?!" but no, you had to come up with some hypothetical "other" girl.

"I lied. I was dating another girl while we were dating."

"You think you're the only one miserable?! Look at me, I'm too ashamed to look you straight in the eye. I realized to late that I made the wrong choice."

"You have no idea how much I think of you everytime I hold her hand in this car. How much I wish you're the one sitting on the passenger seat."

I have to stop now. All these lies are making me dizzy.


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*.* as if! @ 4:57:00 PM • • RBJ