The eyes hold the lies

In no particular order:

Black lies.

White lies.

Red lies.

Green lies.

Yellow lies.

Purple lies.

Magenta lies.

Orange lies.

Brown lies.

Beige lies.

Blue lies.

Bone lies.

When the bones are good. The rest don’t matter. (mm)

No matter how it is sliced, diced, or niced. Strong bones, a strong foundation will always make it to the end of the line.

Even if and when and with the frequent free flying.

You see, we live in a rather large world. And to get from point A to point B does not require a straight line. It can take seconds or it can take years. To get to the end of the line. One can go with the lies. One can fly with the flies. One can try to work it with the nice.

A new birth? Or.

Wasn’t born yesterday.

Somewhere in the middle.

It is better to walk the honest line. We keep and continue telling ourselves this every day. But. Maybe we just have gotten so used to the lie. The lying to ourselves. With no intentional intention of crossing the line. The lie line. Normally, by this time, the crossing over part, the lies have been so frequent, so insidiously spoken, so redundantly written and repeatedly imaged, that the final word becomes either the nail in the coffin or the planted tree.

Lies like trees can have longevity. So does a good and honest person. As well as a good and honest nuclear family. In any environment. Any where in the world. Of course. There are problems, rotting, time to “chop them down to size.” But a good and strong tree provides much shelter and shade to those who tend kindly, routinely and dutifully to its growth, its branches in the spirit of family.

The true spirit of family. The true spirit of reciprocity. The shade a tree provides on a hot summer day. The shield a tree provides from a wintry wind. The loo a tree provides for our beloved dog. (And if one admits it, is telling the truth, ourselves as well from time to time)

Life is lived. Good days. Bad days. And then.

One day.

One may find their self in a desperate “place”. Plunked down. Sitting across the table. From and of a person you have never met. Do not know.

And you are asking them for their help.

This could be across the world. Or right next door to you.

Imagine yourself across the table. Of the person you do not know. Taking the time to learn. About them. About you. About their world. About your world. Their joys. Your joys. Their secrets. Your secrets. Their sadness. Your sadness. All without asking one single question. All the while having a thousand questions swirling within your mind.

Asking a perfect stranger,

How do I feel better. How do I do better. How do I become honest in my intentions towards others. Toward myself?

Perfect. Yes.

You have chosen this important person to translate the mess in your mind. To make some sense. Of it all. The cruelty. The games. The ways. The means. Makes not much difference whether the application will work with a tap, punch, or pull or drag. You sit or stand in repeated attempts to be

Understood.

Humans have this unusual ability to twist, or at least think they can twist the fate of their fellow man. It is heart breaking really. Here, there, everywhere. Mostly, I guess, to have what you have. And will go to great lengths, lies upon, lies, upon lies to get it. Take it from you.

Twisting by the pool. Inuendo. Photoshop. Rumors. How do rumors get started? Started by jealous people that they get mad, seeing something they had and somebody else is holding. They tell me temptation is very hard to resist. (cn).

With my business please don’t mess. Might as well admit it, there is a stat, data, a statistic that exists indicating females spread rumors double what males do, in any part of the world. Let that just sit with you, across the table or at your table.

The problem with the rumor lies in with keeping the narrative going…….Good luck to a person with crossing that line of thinking. Not only does it lend itself to lack of respect of our fellow man or woman, it is wrong.

When we are young we may be told a white lie. This is a minor type of lie to keep a person’s feelings at the heart of your heart. To not hurt theirs. This is a type of lie wherein Santa or the Tooth Fairy may be stuck in traffic, however they will make it to your home.

As we grow and mature, a lie can take on a whole new meaning. An excuse. Insidiously and narratively dragging with intent to drag another down. By their hair, by their boots. Another and may be the saddest kind of lie to tell, to speak. A cover. Here, there or anywhere in the world. Because now, it can go “global” within seconds and the task becomes not disputing the lie, the story, but becomes

Damage control.

And damage it is. The damage has been done. Why spread it for all to see, hear and “know”. So they can “like” it. For everyone. Everywhere. Here, there and everywhere one may ask or say it is a matter of perspective. To this, I reply.

I do not think so. Not when it is the truth. A lie zaps so much of our energy. We all do it. But the saddest of us keep doing it. The ones looking for a way out, finally fess up to the mess. Seek change. For the most. Not the least.

Without robbing Peter to pay Paul. That is another form of a lie. When you sit across a table from a person. Simply look into their eyes and you will instantly know the answer. How? If they look away from you. Anyone can stare a hole through another. But few can stand to look at another while telling a lie. This we learn as innocent children. How we learn as burgeoning youth and then adults is another story.

Where we live, go to school, eat our meals, seek medical attention. Any where in the world. We are lying to ourselves if we think w always need a fancy app to translate our thoughts, words and actions. Reciprocity can be a fickle beast to battle.

We simply need to plop down under a strong and wide tree, a wise tree, an old tree. May be ask the tree about his friend the tree stump. And really listen to what the tree says as its branches blow freely in the wind of our quest to know the truth.

Maybe all we needed to do all along was tell,

The truth.

Maybe all we needed to do all along was,

Apply ourselves.

To the habit of admitting who we are, want to be, and can honestly be in order to give back. Because once we look away.

We help no one.