Sunday, April 13, 2008


Something I've realized with passing time (more so because situations which brought it out strongly in me have presented them at frequent intervals in law school) is that I really despise lies.

Before you raise your eyebrows and skeptically remark that you're sure I've lied on several occasions, let me confess that I indeed have. To save my skin, to give an excuse, to get out of those sticky-parenty situations, I have lied. And quite a bit. With a straight face and a pit in my stomach. I have told serious and not so serious shady tales. The general stuff. And I remember my mom (she is a rather astute lady, who knows I am lying, and reacts in a way that tells me she knows, but is nice enough to let me carry on the pretense so as to save us both uncomfortable situations) saying on several hundreds of occasions that we shouldn't lie to her, that she can stand an awful truth, but a lie in any form really gets under her skin. She told both my brother and me to do anything but lie to her.

I identify with that sentiment now.

Let me explain how this is not a display of double-standards.

I hate it when people very close to me lie

I hate it when people lie for absolutely no reason.

Or exaggerate, chuma.

I hate it whent the lie achieves no significant purpose, yet is told.

I know it is a subjective, and perhaps even arbitrary standard to judge a lie by, the purpose for which it is told. But I think that makes a difference.

And I know that most people don't like being lied to (duh!). But I cannot explain just how much it irritates me. It makes my blood boil. I can almost feel anger seeping through every vein in me.It makes me want to throw something, break the nearest object; to thoroughly shake the lie-teller and demand why it was told. Some lies, told by exceptionally close people, can even evoke murderous instincts in me. Injure their head with a brick. Preferably something fatal.

I don't know why I feel so strongly, especially about irrelevant lies. Most people would shrug their shoulders and move on, because it doesn't affect them in the least. But what bothers me the most is that it was told when it doesn't affect me in the least.

Maybe it's just hereditary.