Bookmark #664

For all the different ways we perceive life, and for all the different ideas we have about it, two things stand in common, that life rewards you for learning to live with it, and that learning to live with things is the hardest thing every single person must learn, eventually. You could look someone straight in the eyes and miss all the things that are on their mind. It is incredible how much people can hide in their tiny little heads, and it is shocking how much the eyes can lie. No one knows what’s under the surface until the veil is lifted. It is seldom lifted, and for all their reputation, given enough time, the eyes become adept at lying.

My life outside the door to this apartment and the one inside may be two parts of the same coin, but it is rigged, and it only lands one way. There are parts of myself that never leave this desk, and there are parts of myself that are not allowed inside, sit by the door like shoes too dirty or wet to bring inside, and the proverbial mud slathered all over. In the end, I am like most people: my life and what goes in my mind are shared in pieces, where some pieces are shared more than others. The other day, I noticed that I had been using the same mug for days, even when I washed it when doing the dishes. I realised it was because I kept it ahead of the others whenever I put it back on the rack. That is how we share our lives, too, if you ask me. There are things that are always on the surface, and they are shared with others in a sort of reflex, and the others, the parts kept inside rot like clothes kept too long in drawers, waiting to see the sun, only to end up in the bin one day.

From the little I have learned about living, I have learned we are all liars in one way or the other. Some lie blatantly; perhaps, they are better than those like me, who prefer to never lie but habitually withhold. To lie by omission is the worst lie after all—you rob someone of the opportunity to want to seek the truth.

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