Please don’t believe me when i say that everything i am about to tell you is exactly how i experienced it. I want to tell you what happened, but it’s been so long that it’s hard to know what’s real and what i’ve created to absolve myself. Or, it’s hard to decide to tell the truth when the lie’s become reality. I want to tell you what really happened, have someone else to share the burden of knowing with. I hope i have the strength to admit it to you, but knowing that you won’t be able to tell gives me too much room to be weak. The truth’s only something that can be held fast by strong people and one thing i will readily admit is that i’m not strong.
Ever since i was a kid, i knew i was smart. Not strong. Which is bad. Starting very young i realized that being strong is a burden but being smart is to cheat burdens by convincing others that they’re theirs. If you’re smart you can create realities that conveniently make you right and others do what you want. And so for as long as i remember, i’ve had a (very bad) habit of persuading things to suit my needs, even things i knew nothing about and cared nothing of. It’s more about knowing who you’re trying to convince than knowing any real facts. Which’s why i’m telling you now, dear reader: you need to notice things about me to have any chance at discerning what I’m trying to tell you from all that I am about to say.
Who am I really; what’s a red herring; and what’s real?
You have tell me.