He was a rubix cube liar; when caught he'd simply remix it. It's not that the truth was hidden, nor that remixing the lies took any cleverness, but that to whom he was the pied piper saw whatever they wanted in the random patterns.
"Concubine" or "Conk you bye/buyin/bind." "Conk" is to hit or conquer by brutishness. Thus this word means to take with an intention only to keep as long as it serves the selfish perspective. An alternative pronunciation is "bonk-u-bye" and the other side of the coin, "bonk-u-pine." If you are seeking love, then it is time to say "Con-c-u-bye." I had to write this, to use my quill, there are so many who want to "pork-ur-pie" and, the other side of the coin,"pork-u-pine." There, sorry to be so crude, to seem so rude and prickly, but some pricks lie.
I never saw it as a lie. I think that this "liar" stuff is a weaponised word. It's as if you are throwing mud because you realise that some will stick and stain. From my perspective everything I ever said was complete truth.
He told me he loved me and found ways to become physically close, chipping away at he emotional layers of protection only so that he could do the same with my clothing. Yet I was only entertainment to this man, someone to take for a "test drive," or worse still, "a joy ride," not caring if I was left a burnt out wreck at the end. His pale skin against his red scarf once made my heart leap, yet now I see it as if I was my own mother, protective for the lonely girl I was.
They speak of lies as if they know truth. They speak of lies as if their brains weren't hardwired as simple dot-to-dot machines, the genius they were born with removed by years of "education." My brain is still able to make those creative leaps you lost, and so what I speak of is truths your neural network cannot find a path to. So trust me by instinct instead. I imagine your speaking as writing in a book, and then I burn it to ash. Because either it burns or I do, and I choose me, I choose to trust my creative gift.
"A spoonful of sugar helps the medicine and the lies go down, man. The soft art of the great teacher to weave the new into the old and help the brain to learn can be mimicked by the liars. They speak softly, use common wisdom and slide the lie right in."
"So how do you tell who's who?"
"No king runs when fear comes knocking, no queen nor warrior neither. A master who requires a whip is no master at all. The hero will sacrifice the self if needed, brave and wise. True leaders lead because people trust them enough to want to follow them. The liar will mimic, be a peacock in every parade, yet be careful to keep a whip in case the mask falls."
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