The Slow Suicide of a Small Lie - 5 Truths About the Self-Destructive Power of Deception

  Introduction: The Universal Weight of a Lie The night has stood motionless before my window, like a mute deity waiting to hear the truth. Today I saw a face that was crumbling under the weight of its own fabrications, and my heart constricted in that silent spasm only compassion knows. I watched words slip from lips like evasive fish, saw eyes search for an anchor in empty space, and I had to ask: Why do you lie? Why do you choose to transform your one life into a labyrinth where you are both the prisoner and the jailer? It hurts me to see these lies, because the world becomes a colder place with each untruth. While deception is often framed as a shield—a mechanism for self-preservation—a deeper examination reveals it to be the opposite. It is not a tool for survival but a slow, agonizing descent into alienation and loneliness. Here are five truths about the nature of deception and the quiet courage required to return to solid ground. Takeaway 1: Lying Isn't Self-Preservation; It...

Alone

 


Alone in my captivity, lost in despair,
I wander, dragging my garments in air.
The weight of it all, crushing me down,
In myself, time's stopped, in silence I drown.
In timeless childhood, stolen breath by breath,
In soulful fields, where I take flight in death.
I soar and return, fueled by desire,
In dreams awakened, here I lie, a crier.
I've lost myself in my realm's dominion,
In ceaseless seeking, my relentless opinion.
Day and night blend in their passionless fight,
For my smile to bring peaceful light.
But peace in the burden, aching and sore,
A sickness from war's loads, my being tore.
Where did I lose myself, once content and calm?
In heaven's embrace, I gave up my qualm.
The birth of rain in love's tender spell,
I hide from it, run and dwell.
For it, I divide myself untroubled,
In its magic, my heart's bubbles.
The dawn of morning's feeling's here,
I return, love, seeing me clear.
I am her reflection, and she'll see me tomorrow,
I move the pieces of myself in my sorrow.
Locked, shut, torn apart and divided,
Forgotten, discarded, torn and derided.
Alone and weeping, powerless, still,
Torn apart, hopeless, with hope killed.
Will I find myself again, I wonder?
To connect my disjointed pieces and ponder.
I'll make my move and win this game,
In boundless unity, I'll know my name.
The only feeling is pain, I breathe it deep,
Accepting it, in its mission I leap.
Tasting it, feeling it, I am it, I love it,
I give birth to it, in my seeking, I covet.
Overflowing, intertwining, enclosing, I ache,
Unraveling, separating, in pouring, I wake.
From myself to myself, let it happen, I'm eternal,
In remembrance, discovered, loved, I'm internal.
Blind in seeing, in sensations, I age,
In whispers of soft words, I engage.
I commit ceaselessly to my finding, I reign,
And here, on eternity's doorstep, I'll gain.
Love, in timelessness, clad in its attire,
Wordless, silent, speaks to me in mire.
Hopelessness, impossibility, swiftly embrace,
Forgotten, alone, in soul's understanding's grace.

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