Little White Truths.

So what? I lied. Lots of people lie. I'm sure if you asked anyone, they would be able to tell you their most recent lie, what it was about, and why they told it. I'm think I'm not the only one. Fuck, I know I'm not the only one. But I also told the truth. You think I'm just a little fucker who only manipulates everyone around him. You think I'm awful. You think I don't deserve to live. Maybe I don't. Maybe I do. Who knows? Maybe I should just take this gun lying on the bed, put it against my head and pull the trigger. Or maybe I should continue with my pathetic excuse for a life, pretending that I never had this talk. Continue being the selfish, manipulative bastard that you think I am. It seems everything I do, you detest me more and more. With every word I speak, you wish you could cut out my tongue, just to make sure that I don't say anything ever again. But I also told the truth. Can't you see? Can't you see that I'm only trying to survive? You. You think I do this for fun. You think I do this just to get a kick out of seeing others squirm in discomfort. Yes, I lied. So what? Stop saying that. I told the truth. Stop it. I'm only doing this to ensure my sanity. Do you really think I would tell them that without a motive? Do you really think I'm happy? Fuck you. I'm not. Every day is a struggle. I don't know which way to turn. Creating confusion and chaos is the only way I can lower everyone to my level.

You know, they say good things come to those who wait. I've waited my entire life. Where the fuck is mine? Why am I not happy? And for the last time, shut the fuck up. I know I lied. But I also lied to myself. It's not my fault. Well, in a way, yes it is. But how can you blame me? How could you say that this is my fault? I never wanted to believe that you could lie, and that friends could deceive. I wonder what it's like to be like you. You, with your perfect friends and your perfect family and your perfect everything. You are exquisite in every way. But you hate everyone. Why? Not everyone is as lucky as you. Sometimes, fate falls short. Sometimes it forgets to gift the rest of us because it's too busy spending time gifting petty things to people like you. How can you say you've made a difference in the world? How can you say you've made a difference to anyone? You're so fake. You're so materialistically demanding. You want things. You need things. You don't care about anyone. You wouldn't care if the whole fucking world blew up and you were the last human left on Earth. As long as you had everything you wanted. Stop it. For the last fucking time, I know I lied. Fuck. You are not special. You are not significant. You are not a unique snowflake. You are simply part of this filth called society. Part of the uniformity. Part of hell. This is your life, and it is ending, one minute at a time. Fuck. If you tell me that I lied one more fucking time, I am picking that gun up off the bed and firing two warning shots. Into your head. I am not joking. When do I ever joke? I have to find the will to carry on this conversation. Do you know how much self-control this is taking? You little bastard. I'm only doing this for you. Yes. What a surprise. No, I'm not lying. What did I fucking say? That's it. You're dead to me. Yes. Dead. Literally. Bang! Bang! Ah, that's much better. Now I won't have to listen to your twittering little voice again. Never again will you accuse me of lying. Oh no. Never again. I told you. I never joke. Nor do I ever lie. I told you, I'm not lying. I told you, I told you, I told you, I told you, I told you. Stop accusing me! Bang! Bang!