They Say ‘Be Honest, It Is Better’

I often reach some dark corners of the Internet that are not made for everyone, and the scary shit I’ve seen makes me think about stupid fictional stuff mostly, and today I was pondering on the idea of communication (the source of all evil) and honesty, and how those things interact with authority. I saw a conversation between two people, a man and a woman, and he was obviously manipulating. I’ve been in that situation before, so it made my heart pump faster, and I got a little anxious. It was a simple question, and making things complicated with an obvious lie is just wrong. And liars get caught.

So, I had this friend for 10 years, and I loved her more than anything. She was witty and sharp, but she was also fat, hairy, and rather pale. No, she was paper white. That combination should never wear a yellow dress. But one sunny day, she came out of her room dressed in a big yellow dress that was revealing her black leg stubble. I was shocked, disgust, and also confused by her lack of judgment. Who the hell told you this is for you?! Did you get this from an enemy, or did you actually pay to look like this? Like an open parachute on two fat legs. She is standing there, fat and transparent as her veins were skating down her skin, dark and full of cholesterol, in that horrid short dress. I am standing a few steps away and I can feel that I will be the one to save her the embarrassment for the night.

She asks with a stupid smile on her face – How do I look?

Unfortunately, her mentally challenged mother just comes back from work and screams in excitement – Oooh, my beautiful daughter, you look like an angel!

I am still standing there, trying to figure out what the fuck is going on. Why would your mother ever say supportive thing that could eventually see you crying in your room much earlier than we were supposed to come back that night. That is just stupid and mean. Moms will lie, for sure.

So I want to say Please take that tent off, and wear something decent, this is offensive. However, I say – Um, I think you would look better in something darker and longer.

Feelings get hurt, eyes pop out, her Mom looks at me with pure rage, and I feel that is it. This is how you die. You tell a fat girl that she is not perfect, and you die.

She kept the dress on, we showed up at the party, she regrets it, goes home crying.

A year later, we were no longer friends. I was oh so right, but it is not for everyone. I am not for everyone.

 

 

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