Lie kills slowly

When truth is replaced by silence, silence is a lie. - Y. Yevtushenko

Lying is man's most primitive form of self-conceiving.

I think the lie is simple in the initial stage. It comes virtually effortlessly, naturally. It covers up undesirable embarrassment, takes a shape that is pleasant to the situation.

In my opinion, lies have or don't have explanations or excuses.

As much as I am not an advocate of lies, I despise them, identify them with a coward, I can understand why a mother does not want to reveal the truth to a child who is terminally ill, or a loving father does not know how to tell his own children that he is dying.

These are forgivable, understandable lies; lies that are touching us in their tragedy.

They are still lies by definition, but I can absolve myself, put myself in the role of the person who lies and ask honestly: "What would I do?"

Maybe I would be lying if I wanted to spare my loved one’s pain.

However, the lie I want to write about has nothing to do with death, pain, or suffering. It is this lie that brings pain and suffering. The lie that dominates the palette of lies is the one we throw out to protect our own neglect or dishonesty, and a moment later we don't know what to do about it. It's such a stupid, immature, cowardly lie. It's a bacterium that poisons the air, creeps into life, and you keep pretending it's nothing, you're still breathing.

You breathe, but it seems harder ...

A lie is something that, inadvertently, be consciously, so easy to instill, apply, and so hard to get rid of it, to free yourself from.

A lie served once leaves an unpleasant aftertaste that is impossible to get rid of.

Why do we lie when I believe we agree that a lie is wrong? None of us want to be labeled a liar. So why are we still lying?

Based on my own observations and thoughts, I believe this is a primal, amoeba-era form of self-defense.

We lie, so we are not to be confronted.

We lie when we know, deeply, subconsciously, on an instinctive level, we know that we are doing wrong, that our choices will be subjected to not entirely favorable evaluation.

We lie because we are afraid of uncomfortable and overwhelming questions.

We lie because at that one moment it feels like a lie for a while. We have no better solution; the situation has exceeded our ability to balance reality.

Now I'll lie, but in a moment, I'll find a way to reverse it, pick it up, straighten it out, explain it.

We set the machine in motion; we activate the forces of destruction. The lie went to the air!

I want to believe that we all feel guilty when we lie.

However, under the influence of emotions, the panic that occurs just before we lie, we forget that there is no easy way to deviate from lying.

It's like a poison that poisons water, air, and food.

We do not realize how much it has slipped into our lives until it turns out that we cannot sleep, eat, breathe. We are sick. Lying kills - us, our interpersonal relationships, our freedom, and freedom of thought. If you eat once, you must always remember what you told to whom, whom you invited to the doorstep, and whom to dinner.

The lie comes so almost effortlessly that after a while it turns out to be overwhelmingly heavy to carry.

I have great respect for people who can admit lies.

I know they don't like it for me or you.

They do it for themselves because it is much easier to live without a hunch of a lie.

And just as lying is the primary form of self-defense, admitting it is the strength of our survival instinct. You can finally breathe again!

They are people who care about the hygiene of their own well-being and mental balance, as scrupulously as they do every evening, about the hygiene of their own oral cavity, brushing their teeth.

I love clean, good-smelling people, but even more, I love people who look me right in the eye!

I look straight in the eyes!

I'm not lying. There are things in my life that I'm not proud of, but I don't lie. Maybe I don't want to talk about them, but if you ask you will get an honest answer. All these things, events, better or worse, shaped me. It wasn't easy, but neither was it hard enough to lie.

Since I don't quite understand people who are lying, I am a bit scared of them. If you lied to me once, I wait for you to do it again. My self-defense mechanism is starting to build an army. I am retreating because my army is pushing forward.

Of course, it hurts the most when it turns out that someone important to me has lied.

I do not know what to do with it. I don't know how to talk or talk at all? I assume you were aware of your lie. I do not like to be a pang of conscience for anyone, I prefer that everyone stand up against each other in their own time.

So, I pull back a lot. I watch, but I don't trust the same anymore.

The air was contaminated. I'm still breathing, but it's hard.

And if the lie is still in the air, it feels like I'm dying.

I must go.

And I don't want to run away at all, but my survival instinct is stronger.

I'm not upset that you lied. I am upset that from now on I can’t believe you.

- F. Nietzsche