I'm the wrong one to fuck with at all.

[raybear]

I hate lying. Especially done badly and needlessly.

I can spot a lie from miles and miles and miles away. I can probably smell them. I can definitely see them. It's harder if it's not in person, but if I know the person somewhat well, I can pinpoint it over the phone or even over e-mails. Hell, even on livejournal posts and comments. I know. I know they are lies. I know they are exaggerations of the truth to the point of fakery.

I rarely call attention to discovery. I only front on the person lying to me about 0.1% of the time. I've knowingly given information, money, consoling, sympathy and much more to liars. Usually in spite of the lie. Sometimes because of it. Sometimes because I want to be an optimistic person who believe that my assessment is incorrect and I should alwys assume truthfulness and good intentions.

I would say the main reason I don't reveal the fact that I know they're lying is out of fear of being wrong. I worry that I'm being paranoid and my accusations will hurt the other person. It's easier for me to deal with the hurt that comes from receiving the lie than the possible hurt of being wrong. But guess what? I'm always right. Eventually time reveals the truth and nearly every time I've been correct in my assessment. I've never even actually been wrong -- there are just been cases where the internal accusations were never confirmed or denied.

I hate lying. I hate something being said or done purely for the sake of something else, something for show, some sense of propriety or obligation or etiquette. I hate the unintentional lying that results from not paying enough attention or inability to admit a wrongdoing or the inaccuracy with which I'm being seen. The latter might be the worst.
I think the worst lie that can be told is one that not only is a falsehood, but one in which the intentions are 'honorable' (i.e. they are trying to please or make me feel good) but they don't even have an accurate idea of what I want or what would be good.

I can spot liars because I'm quite good at it. I'm an excellent liar. But I don't do it much anymore -- these days I occasionally engage in "spin", which is embellishing one aspect of the truth, rather than creating something wholly new and false. But I try to limit that as well.
I hate lying. Sometimes I call things lies that might not fit the dictionary definition. Perhaps the person isn't intended to convey the wrong information, so they're just mistaken, not lying. But in certain circumstances I believe they are lying to themselves, they're lying about their ability to grasp the truth, and that's what makes their words a lie, not the intention of the spoken words themselves.

But I guess I don't hate liars. I'd have to hate myself sometimes. And it's impossible since everyone does it occasionally, but even the people who lie consistently and intentionally and unintentionally and often....I don't necessarily do anything about it.

I just sit there and think, "that's a lie."

Comments

[hissyfit.livejournal.com]

when i was a little girl, my preschool teachers told my mom that i had a "very active imagination". once i hit 4th grade or so, they started saying that i had a "problem with telling the truth". i think i was a compulsive liar as a child. i would make things up all the time, for no reason at all--it was just part of my natural human interactions. i usually made up stories about my past so that i could be part of a conversation or be more interesting. it was mostly "harmless" in that i never lied maliciously, but it was really hard for me to understand what exactly "lying" was, and why i shouldn't do it. by the time i got to highschool, i had mostly stopped, though i must say that i'm a pretty good liar. i mean, i've never had anyone call me on one of my spins or fabrications. i don't do it now because i don't want people to do it to me. i guess that's how i was really finally able to stop doing it.

[drood.livejournal.com]

This is one of those posts of the penetrating sort that instinctively makes me remember everything I've said to you in the last week (lube? Sophie? sausages? what? what?!) to figure out where I lied and (gulp!) how you caught me out.

I do hate liars, and I hate myself when I do it. I've just been trying, in recently years, to move my life so that I don't feel compelled to lie or feel rewarded when I do it. It's working, for the most part.

[sharkysmachine.livejournal.com]

i lied. it was 70.6 pounds, but you know i didn't think anyone would notice.

I used to have a problem with lying, I think

[glasshaus.livejournal.com]

Or maybe it's more a problem about witholding. I guess there was this pseudo-intimacy thing I used to do with people who would really push me about my past. I don't talk about it much, or never did. When a girlfriend would push me on something in the search of intimacy, if it was something I'd told her I didn't want to discuss, I'd just throw out some bullshit to appease her. I don't really do that, anymore. Obviously, none of those relationships worked (there's reasons for it). So now, I just don't talk about what I'm not ready to talk about. I figure if someone loves me, they'll be patient with my list of confessions. You've got an interesting journal. Hope you don't mind my dropping in without an appointment. -C

"Hope you don't mind my dropping in without an appointment"

[raybear.livejournal.com]

We here at raybear do accept walk-ins, assuming the lines aren't too long. So drop away!

Hey you!

[supergoat.livejournal.com]

Captain of "calling people on their shit" - where are you when I need you?