I trapped the spider in a glass tumbler, the likes of which severed one of its legs, creating a grossly disfigured monster. But I look through the glass and see: the true monster is me.
They tell me, “All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players.”
If so, I want to be in the audience, living a real life.
There’s nothing I want more than to tell you the truth.
There’s nothing I want less than for you to know the truth.
The search for truth is long and hard.
So is a penis, ha ha.
You, and none other.
The endless and only truth.
Tomorrow at work they’ll ask me what I did on the weekend and I’ll lie and say “you know, just had a bit of fun” or something like that.
The truth is that on the weekend I mocked a few religions, declared a meal “the worst I’ve eaten” though it wasn’t, slept alone, and relaxed my hands on the wheel in yet another reckless game so the car strayed just a little onto the gravel.
I am a person going through the adolescence stage of life.
In an adults eyes I am a teenager, a sincere insult thanks to the media.
Nobody really liked her; however, that didn’t stop her from sashaying (like a cat in heat) out onto the stage, wearing the tightest, shortest (Harper Valley PTA sleazy) hooker red dress we – or probably anyone else for that matter – had ever seen, to accept (without any reservations) the award for teacher of the year. Of course, the pubescent young men present erupted into thunderous applause, dog woofs, and whistling (a sound akin to what happens when someone scores a touchdown at the Superbowl), while the girls and adults – totally embarrassed by this flagrant sexual display – sat silent with looks of disdain and arms folded as she stepped up to the microphone and said,
“I want to thank you all for this honor, which I could not have possibly imagined that I would win; however, I cannot accept it, and would like at this time, to present it to my friend and colleague, Mary White, who is a better teacher, better person, better dresser (greeted by snorts and laughter) and is not having an affair with the principal,”
and, this being said, then handed the plaque to Mrs. White (who had been runner up), turned and walked out of the auditorium, which had fallen into complete and utter silence.
Gotta face it.
Santa is not real.
Bring me my socks of justice.
Bring me my pants of truth!
At work I always tell the truth.
I’ve been fired like three times.
They thought she was tragically beautiful. The truth was she is beautifully tragic.
Growing up, he always thought that he would never lose his innocence.
It was in those sleepless nights and those dark thoughts, that he realized that it was gone.