We all lie. Tiny white lies to
get out of doing things we don’t really want to do. Or tiny deviations from the truth to spare someone’s feelings.
Sometimes bigger black lies when we can convince ourselves that they are warranted. You can deny obfuscating every once in a while all you want, but everybody lies every now and then. Some of us are better at it than others. I wish there were metaphorical
billboards over people’s heads informing others of their proficiency in the art of deception. But alas, we have to rely on personal judgement and trust.
Trusting someone means believing that the
pictures they paint for you closely resemble the world they see through their
eyes. You've painted a lot of pictures in my life. Until recently they were the
most beautiful pieces of art I had come across. Then
one day I saw your world and the view was vastly different from the picture you’d
painted. In fact, the picture was so very distorted that it didn’t much
resemble your reality. And now every picture you ever painted is a blur of
colours that bleed and intermingle into an incomprehensible mess. At what point did trust get lost in translation?
