Should I Start Lying?

Get in girl, we're making shit up

Geminis are starting to get a much better rap and I’m concerned it’s throwing the universe off balance. Everyone and their mother is coming out of the woodwork saying “I love Geminis, they’re so fun, they’re my favorite’s bla bla bla”. Sooo you all were lying this whole time when you were calling us psycho and two faced? Or you’re all just sheep hopping on whatever bandwagon is the shiniest? Hmmm, that’s what I thought.

Since moving, I’ve found myself at a loss for how to talk about myself. I don’t feel like a drastically different person, but when your day to day routines and surroundings are totally new it can feel like identity whiplash. I have so much on my mind all the time but I don’t feel like the world is prepared for the tornado of my interiority. My therapist likened me to a turtle the other day. I told her I either feel like sharing my true thoughts makes me feel too exposed and then regretful for revealing too much, or I seem like the most boring girl alive because I’m so closed off my mind goes blank from the unwillingness to disclose anything at all. I feel much more comfortable with this reptilian metaphor for the multifaceted twins of the zodiac. This gemini isn’t “two faced”, she’s just either a naked turtle or has retreated so far into her shell you can’t see her at all. To be known is a frightening concept. There’s a reason turtles have their shells. And a life chasing the desire to be understood would be an unfulfilling one, despite the universal nature of that drive.

I still need social interaction though. If the alternative to sharing is living a life of pure solitude I guess I should come up with a few talking points. Which brings me back to my original query… Should I start lying?

Hear me out…

Firstly, I’m kind of in the city of liars. I might be the only one in Los Angeles not lying. I try not to make sweeping generalizations about men, not because I don’t believe them, but because I just think its tired. But… men notoriously love to lie. Some like to lie about how many other people they’re dating, their height, or their job title. Some like to fabricate in the form of stretching the truth, or omitting it. I’m thinking that’s where I’ll start on my lying journey.

I used to catch my ex boyfriend in the most unnecessary webs of exaggerations. It was perfectly harmless, but he just loved to zhush up a story to make it more fun. Sometimes if I wasn’t careful and actively listening he would sneak in totally made up facts about people or history to help prove his point. I spoke to him yesterday about my interest in joining his cause. He told me he recently made up an entire story on a night out just for the hell of it, and everyone eat it up! He’s got enough midwestern good guy charm to get away with just about anything in my opinion, but he made a pretty compelling case. Maybe lying to carry on the oral tradition of storytelling is actually integral to our generations necessity for human connection. Who remembers the plot of Catch Me If You Can? It’s about a guy who literally lied his way to the top. He became a pilot! Tony Soprano lied about making all his money through his sanitation business and he’s one of the most beloved characters of all time. It’s still unclear to me if this is plain old male audacity or an exercise in the power of imagination. Either way, I’m intrigued

To be clear, my intention is not to lie for the sake of people pleasing or being liked, it’s for the sake of lateral thinking, and evading the choice between psychic nudity and impenetrability. Believe me, nothing gives me more pleasure in life than denying someone what they want to hear. Not because I’m cruel, but because I prefer the conversational road less traveled. Don’t bother fishing for a compliment from me, I will find my own way to say something nice, in my own time.

But seriously, who doesn’t love mystery?! A human question mark! I love being curious. I love knowing things, but I spend so much time worrying about what I don’t know, I’m starting to wonder if I’m obsessed with unanswered questions, or the search for meaning rather than the meaning of the thing itself. It’s a strange sort of masochism to be constantly reaching for the most honest, painful, truth. Or denying the legitimacy of the truth given unless it hurts.

I’ve waxed on about my desire for objectivity. How boring! I’m not a lawyer, or a bird flying above seeing everything zoomed out. I have to live in my brain, so might as well enjoy it. Even if that means lying to myself until I believe my tall tales. I miss whimsy. I miss thinking outside the box.

See the problem is, I can’t deny who I am. I was raised to honor integrity and authenticity. I’ve chosen a life of radical vulnerability regardless of how uncomfortable it makes me. I don’t know my way around dishonesty but I do love a good story. I just think the substance, the meat, the amniotic fluid of my mind is not up for grabs and not all inclusive! So in conclusion, your resident Gemini is declaring that resorting to indecent mental exposure is out for the summer, and ingenuity is in!

Until next time…

Happy Summer <3

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xx

av