A little cold, little wet,
a little tired and yet
I am here. Still,
full of wonder.
The morning chill leaves
little to the imagination
and much less
to hope for.
Expected, perhaps, as it
always is, this time, this
season is only what
we ask of it.
11/21/2024 j.g.l.
The answers are far less certain
than even last week, to all those
perennial questions or solutions
you might seek.
What do you believe, or
what do you believe in?
Come Monday, you have fewer
questions than you had last week.
For a while there are less doubts
in what you believe.
Whom do you believe in,
and who believes in you?
11/18/2024 j.g.l.
We want to know what
we don’t know, or hadn’t thought of,
or forgot.
What mattered then,
or what mattered when, shifts over time.
We notice.
Perception is what you don’t see.
Deception is what know.
You see it differently through your aloneness.
The truth behind a lie,
you question how and why.
It made sense.
Anticipation keeps us waiting
for only so long. Will it matter
if you felt it never did?
© 2021 j.g. lewis
I'm like a pencil;
sometimes sharp,
most days
well-rounded,
other times
dull or
occasionally
broken.
Still I write.
j.g. lewis
is a writer/photographer in Toronto.
We are all liars.
In that
we find truth.
I don’t like that statement: We are all liars.
It speaks to all that offends us, it ruffles our feathers, it confronts the widely-held belief where truth is a virtue held in the highest regard.
We believe ourselves to be truthful; in many ways we believe it is the strongest plank in our moral platform. We tell ourselves it is our goal, our destination, and our destiny.
Truth.
Truth; we listen for it, we search for it, and we live for it. Fuck, at times we believe it is all we know. Or all we want to know.
We don’t.
So we tell ourselves things to make us believe, we lie to ourselves to make us believe. We lie to others to make them believe, in us. Where we slept last night, how we performed at our workplace (or what we actually do), how we feel about something, how we enjoyed dinner at our best friend’s home – we don’t always answer those questions honestly.
We are liars. We don’t always tell the truth.
We tell untruths. Falsehoods.
Fibs.
Lies.
We might even classify it as a rationalization, a self-medicating myth we feed to ourselves to help us believe we are who we are, and what we are, or to make people believe we are better than we are; even better than them.
We lie to them. And worse, we lie to ourselves.
We say things — under pressure, out of guilt, perhaps in the throes of passion — that are simply not true, things we know will never happen, and still we say them.
We even say them truthfully.
We are all liars.
In that
we find our truth.
©2014 j.g. lewis
“People need good lies. There are too many bad ones.”
– Kurt Vonnegut Jr.
Above illustration photographed off the wall of some Starbucks, somewhere in Toronto. The artist’s name was not on the sketch. Please contact me if this is your artwork, so I can give credit where credit is due. Much respect j.g.l.
I’m like a pencil;
sometimes sharp,
most days
well-rounded,
other times
dull or
occasionally
broken.
Still I write.
j.g. lewis
is a writer/photographer in Toronto.