Lies

A web of lies they spin. A complicated mess of lies they need to believe to be able to live. It's the basic survival kit. And when things get too bad, when the lying doesn't match, when it gets out of control, that's why they go mad.

And I pity any poor soul that believes the lies. Because they get caught up in the mess. And they forget that they need to lie too, white lies, nothing too bad, just enough to get you through the day or more importantly through the night.

No, your husband isn't cheating, he's just away on business. Of course you like your child, what kind of mother would you be otherwise? Yes you love your life, you gave up everything you loved, all your hobbies, all your dreams, but it was worth it. Of course this is what you want, you dug your heels into the ground, the little stubborn eejit you are, and admitting that you were wrong will only make you a fool.

Lies, lies, lies. Are they bad? Are they good? Are they necessary? Is your childhood built on just lies? Does it really matter if the happiest moments in your life were lies? They made you happy didn't they? Wouldn't life be an awfully boring place without lies? Just plain facts? Now, now honey isn't this living the dream?