I don't lie.*
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Chapter 1:- I don't lie...I tell stories,
As the title implies, I don't lie. Okay, that's a lie. I don't like to call them lies but "stories". That's what I was taught to call them growing up. "You don't lie, you are telling a story and you should never do that." I was confused from a young age.
I love stories! What's so wrong about telling them?
Well the stories that my parents didn't want to hear were the ones about who broke something, who took something or both. At this young age, I watched my older sister tell her "stories" about where she was late at night on school nights or who she was with and I would know the actual truth. Sometimes she got away with it. Something she didn't. I learned from her mistakes. Out of the number of times that I lied in childhood, I was caught only a few times.
I'm sorry, not lied. "Told a story".
Now older, I find myself telling more stories to the people around me. My family, my friends, perfect strangers. If I don't want the truth to be known, a story flows from my mouth. It's become too easy for me. Do I care? Hell, no.
Like I said, I love stories! What's so wrong with telling them?
As the title implies, I don't lie. Okay, that's a lie. I don't like to call them lies but "stories". That's what I was taught to call them growing up. "You don't lie, you are telling a story and you should never do that." I was confused from a young age.
I love stories! What's so wrong about telling them?
Well the stories that my parents didn't want to hear were the ones about who broke something, who took something or both. At this young age, I watched my older sister tell her "stories" about where she was late at night on school nights or who she was with and I would know the actual truth. Sometimes she got away with it. Something she didn't. I learned from her mistakes. Out of the number of times that I lied in childhood, I was caught only a few times.
I'm sorry, not lied. "Told a story".
Now older, I find myself telling more stories to the people around me. My family, my friends, perfect strangers. If I don't want the truth to be known, a story flows from my mouth. It's become too easy for me. Do I care? Hell, no.
Like I said, I love stories! What's so wrong with telling them?
