Can we really live a life without lies?

I've tried it, I've read about it. In the end what seems to happen more often than not is how people who claims to never lie ( Like I tried to do), just twists their words in a sense that its so vague and subjective that we mislead people into thinking something else.

Purposely.

So whilst a direct lie was never said and done, the intentions behind the partial truths are in a way worse?

But going back to why that happens. Can our every single action really justify our own causes so much so that we are unafraid of letting others know our intentions? Can we proudly proclaim our intentions, our actions to anyone and everyone who wants to hear? Probably not. At least, not in every single situation.

After all, freely giving knowledge always give us a sense of vulnerability. Being humans, I guess that's something we will always avoid?

Then again, would I really be able to live a life without lies? Without malicious intent, just a pure, content life untainted by lies and deception?

A passionate fire that burns quickly to dust or the slow flame that always seem to last.

With anger I would pretty much prefer the fire. Fast, furious and leaving fear in its wake. As if its sole purpose was to scorch its enemy to death, and then fade to nothing but ashes.

With love I want the slow flame. Warmth, welcoming and willing to stay small and silent. It could escalate to a bright burning fire with every little spice, yet cool to its original purpose without any vice. As long as we remember it does not burn without a little fuel, we can keep it on forever.

Yet in life things never go our way.

Anger is instead portrayed by the flame that bursts into outrages with just little bits of agitation, stealthy and lasting with grudges, and hatred fuels its low but omnipresence desires.

Love is instead the passionate fire that burns when lovers first meet, as if they were meant for each other from the beginnings of time, leaving bystanders green with envy. Yet it often burns faster than expected, leaving us puzzled how everything that could seem so right just a while ago, feels so wrong to our ego.

How then could we love like a slow, warmth flame, and hate like a hot, passionate fire?

Trouble trouble trouble.

Maybe I could appreciate some of Taylor's Swift's feelings now. Just like how you could feel it, on another level, trouble walking it.

Call it the sixth sense, call it intuition, the name doesn't matter, what matters is that nagging feeling that something wrong is about to happen, and if your will is strong enough, only if your will is strong enough, may you be allowed the chance to past it without harm.

I don't have a strong will.

So it goes back to that awkward. At the end of the day, humans are but animals, driven by primary instinct I guess. If you force people to spend time together long enough, perhaps they would eventually crave for one another.

Doesn't help when trouble comes from the past unforgotten, drives past today un-forgiven, into the tomorrow un-forgivingly.

In the past year, more than once I've heard people say, "You're the best thing that ever happened to us."

In fact, I would be more suspicious if they said that to me directly, like are you serious or are you just trying to get some benefit out of me?

But no.

They weren't telling me, they were saying it to someone else, their colleague, their co-worker. Not me. In a way, it makes me really believe that they meant it, truly and sincerely and yet in a another sense, I feel kind of burdened.

After all, all I did was to be myself. Uphold my values and do my job.

I don't know how the big picture works, all I know is to trust what job I am given, work on my micro part and hope that in the big picture, that's what is required of me.

Sometimes I wonder how I even reach that level of thinking. After all, isn't it human nature to desire attention, recognition? Don't we always want our efforts to be seen, to be awarded, appreciated?

But no? Ever since I certain time in my life that I can't really pinpoint, I've just relegated myself to someone who is more suited to be in the background, someone undeserving of the spotlight.

Whether it be in sports, where I'd rather be the one setting up others for the better shot, or in work where my thinking of doing my job well done is good enough. Sometimes I think I trust those who assign me so much so that I give myself up.

Some would call it selfless, but in all honesty its just probably an inferior complex.

If you can't dunk and would only embarrass yourself trying to do so, why not be the one paving the way for others to dunk? If you can't plan and manage ten people to complete a project, why not just be the one of the ten people who doesn't need to be managed so the project can run smoothly?

When was it that I have decided, being the one others look up upon is no longer who I want to be but rather being the one who helps others stand in the spotlight is a better me?

Hopefully though, I can stay true to myself, and continue to not covet what attention that should not belong to me.

Shady character.

How I love to be one. I like it when people feel threatened around me, when some part of them know they can't trust me fully, when I show them, once in a while how ridiculous and unethical things I could do, just to remind them never to forget what kind of person I am.

Because honestly, the other alternative is just way too scary. It's so dangerous for people to build too much trust in you. The expectation is crushing, whenever they feel they can rely on you to consistently do certain things well, on the basis that you either had done it before, or always have been doing it.

While I like to be as consistent as possible, I simply cannot stand strong under the crushing pressure of expectations.

So I cheat.

If they can't trust me, they won't. If they won't trust me, they won't expect me to do things for them. Saves them the disappointment if I actually attempted and failed. Right?

That being said, sometimes it still hurts. Maybe not like the crushing pain that sends adrenaline through the entire body, but certainly like a small part of you just broke.

But that's what I wanted isn't it? To make others think that I'm capable of the worst deeds, so that when it actually slips me by far enough to happen, they won't think it impossible of me.

I won't have to live by their expectations that everyone is a nice person, and that we should always do something socially acceptable. Right?

Right?

Silently, secretly wish that I'll never stop envying.

Envy may be one of the seven deadly sins, but at the same time, it represents a drive, a want.

Rather than fear how envy might one day drive me too ambitious for my own good, I worry more for the day that I stop envying. I stop seeking what I do not possess, silent in my resignation in my inability.

Oh how I wish that day never comes. No matter how bad the things are, its the simple human faith that we can make ourselves better, in one way or another that keeps us alive, keeps hope burning.

Which is why never underestimate envy. Today it might do nothing for you, tomorrow it might push you too far, but the day you let it go, is the day you stop living your life as a human being. But rather like a silent slave without a care in the world.

Which is worse? Having the same traumatic, repetitive nightmare every night just like in movies, novels and television shows? Or the daily new dosage of innovative tragedy the brain seem to be able to come up with every night?

Honestly I don't know. But for some reason the latter is happening to me recently.

And it sucks. Seriously.

Nightmares are nothing new to anyone. We've probably all had them in our lifes some time or another. But for some reason, the exhilarating chase our demons took us in within the nightmares seem to have evolved into something else.

While fear has always been a key factor in nightmares, what used to be adrenaline pumping, running for dear life, chasing to conplete disastrous amounts of work is now not present.

Instead, the current flavor of nightmares seem to take on the emotional side. How lost amidst the situation, how helpless one becomes in that dire straits. Its as if nightmares have progressed to remove the self-helping capacity. You won't lose if you run fast enough is now you lose no matter what you do.

And worst of all, is the inability to realise, to discover that it's a nightmare, its unreal, unrealistic and definitely not the truth.

In the past I might have been able to realise mid-dream that all these must be a dream. Nowadays? Absolutely none. Absolutely living till the end of the nightmare, to whatever forgone conclusion the mind's writer wants to write.

And to walk into the next nightmare seamlessly, till the savior known as the alarm rescues me.