We are lied to.
It’s a fact of life; it’s part of the human experience. We interact with other humans, and subsequently, we are lied to.
Sometimes, we don’t even notice the lie — we accept it for truth, we don’t question it, and we continue with life as normal. Sometimes, we do catch the lie, and we call it out; the stinking, necrotic flesh of the lie is peeled back to expose raw nerves and the bare, brittle bone of truth. But sometimes, even though we see the lie for what it is, the lie is accepted — sometimes even welcomed — and we let it sing us to sleep with a lullaby.
But the lullaby seeps into our blissful slumber and sullies our subconscious, turning once-sweet dreams into disturbing nightmares, and those nightmares haunt our waking thoughts. Suspicion arrives and makes itself comfortable, questioning every motive the liar could possibly have had to conceal the truth. We begin to doubt — not only the credibility and integrity of the liar, but our own honor and integrity.
Why did we let the lie sing us softly to sleep, although we know its lullaby would give us nightmares?
Because the truth hurts. The truth is ugly, and real, and frightening. We don’t want to wake up, so we let the lie sing us back to fitful sleep.
We are lied to, and we accept these lies.
It’s a fact of life; it’s part of the human experience.
This was inspired by Rara’s take on lies, which you can (and should) read here. It sat with me, and made me think. The quote and disturbing rabbit-thing is from the movie Donnie Darko, which also sat with me, and made me think.