I just thought about something... it isnt anything profound, mind you. It's just that somthing in what I've been reading recently made me think about Truth.

It seems that the more a person is given to lying, the more I think he appreciates the truth. It's like a symbol of something he lacks, a wish for something he could not attain because he has trapped himself in a web of deceit that is his own doing and that try as he might, he couldn't practice telling the truth for it would make his whole world collapse. And he probably is terrified of the thought that his world can change so drastically once the truth IS out. Truth, maybe, is some sort of amulet for him that he carries around hidden inside himself, and only he himself knows it for what it is: ugly, unyielding reality. Ugly because it couldn't be anything else; for if it wasn't something horrible, why hide it in the first place? It's rather odd to think about it this way, but I think liers are people who appreciate truth most since they know how precious it actually is...

It's nothing really, just rambling on about something not really worth wasting my time on. But then I have quite a lot of time to waste because I'm not really doing anything worthwhile, am I?