The Lies We Call Ourselves

"People are all born liars and are mostly used to lying. If a person who has never lied even once in their life exists, that existence itself would be a lie. For humans, lies are an inseparable part of ourselves."

"Wow. Starting strong with the cynicism today, huh? You woke up and decided to cosplay me?"

"I prefer to call it observation. Or do you disagree?"

"I wouldn't say I disagree. It's not exactly groundbreaking. People lie to survive, to make life a little less miserable. I mean, if someone asks you how they did, you're not going to tell them it was a failure unless you're looking for trouble."

"I see. Still, lying has to be a part of life. For better or worse, it has been a necessary tool for people to get out of difficulties or deceive others. Even the smallest social interactions are stitched together by falsehoods. It's how society holds itself up."

"Sure. It's a survival mechanism. But that's all it is. You can lie all you want, but it won't change the fact that none of those lies define who you are. If anything, they just bury whatever truth might actually exist under layers of nonsense."

"The truth is irrelevant if the lie is what everyone believes. A well-crafted lie can shape perception far more effectively than the truth ever could. If the world accepts the falsehood, isn't that the new reality?"

"Maybe for the world. But for the person telling the lie? That's a different story. You can pretend all you want, but in the end, you're just acting. Take someone who pretends to be the ideal leader, always putting on a front, trying to keep everyone happy. They're so wrapped up in that lie that it's eating them alive. Anyone paying attention can see it. People contradict themselves constantly—sometimes without even realizing it. And no matter how much you lie to others, you can't lie to yourself forever. That's where it breaks down."

"And yet they continue. Because the alternative of facing the truth is far more destructive. Sometimes the lie is the only thing keeping someone standing. That role they cling to is all they know."

"Exactly my point. You can pretend all you want, but in the end, you're just acting. Take for example someone who hides behind a cheerful, friendly mask. Outwardly, they're all smiles, but underneath? There's resentment boiling over. They've built their entire existence on that mask, but it's only a matter of time before it cracks."

"They'll keep it intact longer than you think. Some people are frighteningly good at balancing both sides without losing control."

"For now. But it's like walking a tightrope. One slip, and that's it. Game over."

"And yet, you contradict yourself as you say that. You call people hypocrites, but isn't denying the power of lies the biggest hypocrisy of all? The ability to deceive oneself is often the very thing that keeps people sane."

"…Yeah. And that's the problem."

"Can you elaborate please?"

"People don't want to be fixed. They'd rather sit comfortably in their little lies because the truth is inconvenient. If someone's drowning in denial, they'll fight you just to stay underwater. The ones who put on a brave face, the ones who pretend they can do it all alone. They know the truth, but they won't accept it. Lies might keep people afloat, but they're also the reason they can't reach the shore."

"So, what's your solution? Honesty? Tear down the illusions and force people to confront what they've been running from?"

"Heh. I'm not that naive. I'm not here to save anyone. I've just accepted that no matter how much you lie, at some point, the contradictions catch up. You can't define people with words or actions alone. They're inconsistent by nature. You see it in the ones who act like they don't need anyone but can't help reaching out anyway. Or in those who preach unity but crumble the second the pressure gets too much. People aren't puzzles you solve, they just keep shifting the pieces around."

"An interesting perspective. But by that logic, identity becomes nothing more than a fleeting illusion. If people are contradictions, then what does that make you?"

"Same as everyone else—a walking contradiction. I'm aware of it, at least. Maybe that's the only difference."

"Awareness doesn't absolve you from being part of the cycle."

"I'm not looking for absolution. I just… get tired of watching everyone scramble to hold their lies together like it's all they have."

"Perhaps that's because, for many, it is all they have."

"…Yeah. And that's why they'll never be free."

"But what about someone without an identity? Someone whose thoughts have always depended on the influence of others, who has never experienced the freedom of being human?"

"…That's oddly specific."

"Is it? Hypothetically speaking, of course."

"I guess… that'd be different. If someone's never had the chance to develop who they are, never had room to make their own decisions, can you even call that person a liar? They're more like… a blank slate. A reflection of whoever's standing closest to them."

"And if that reflection becomes the only existence they know?"

"Then they probably wouldn't see a problem with it. If you're shaped entirely by the expectations of others, you don't really question it. Not until something cracks the mirror."

"And what happens when the mirror breaks?"

"They'd have to start from nothing. Figure out who they are beneath all the layers people piled onto them. But that's assuming there's even something underneath. If all they've ever known is imitation, there might not be anything real waiting to surface."

"I wonder. Would someone like that even have the capacity to desire an identity of their own?"

"Now that's the weirdest part of all this. Most people fight to protect the identity they've built, even if it's a lie. But someone like that… maybe they wouldn't care. If your sense of self is just a collection of other people's expectations, losing it might not even feel like losing anything."

"Perhaps. Or maybe it's the opposite. Maybe someone like that craves identity more than anyone else but doesn't know how to claim it."

"…That's a depressing thought."

"Is it? You've already said people cling to lies because they fear the truth. But what if you've never had the luxury of lies in the first place? Wouldn't that be far more isolating?"

"Maybe. But I think you're overcomplicating it. If someone doesn't have an identity, the world will give them one eventually. People are too eager to label things. They won't leave a blank canvas untouched."

"And if the labels never fit?"

"Then I guess they keep searching. Or they pretend the labels fit until they forget they don't."

"Pretending again. Isn't that just another lie?"

"…You really enjoy making me go in circles, don't you?"

"They're comforting. No matter where you start, you always return to the same point. There's a strange beauty in it."

"I guess it's easier than confronting the straight path ahead."

"Straight paths are dangerous. People stumble when they can't loop back to familiar ground."

"True. But sometimes, moving forward is the only option. Even if it's uncomfortable."

"Forward… I wonder if that's possible for someone who was never meant to move at all."

"…I'm starting to think this isn't as hypothetical as you said."

"But isn't that fitting? Lies wrapped in truths, truths wrapped in lies. In the end, it hardly matters which is which."

"…Yeah. Maybe it doesn't."

"If someone like that, someone without an identity, were to fabricate one, to create a lie so convincing that even they believed it… would that be wrong?"

"I guess that depends on what you call 'wrong.' If it keeps them going, maybe it's not such a bad thing. Everyone lies to themselves to some extent. It's just another way to cope. But from my point of view that sounds more like imitation than identity. Borrowed pieces don't make you whole. You can patch together a mask, but underneath… it's empty."

"Is emptiness unforgivable?"

"No. But the things people do to fill it usually are."

"So if someone like that deceived and manipulated others to acquire it, would you hate them for it?"

"…I guess that's when it crosses the line."

"And if I told you I've already crossed that line. Would you hate me for it?"

"I could probably dig up that kind of hate."

"But you don't."

"Hate's exhausting. I'd rather not carry it around if I can help it. Even if I wanted to, I doubt it'd last long. I can hate something, sure, but I will forget it someday if no one mentions it."

"So even if the lie spreads, even if the truth vanishes entirely, you'd let it happen?"

"I'm not saying that. But I'm not naïve enough to think I can stop it either. People do what they need to do, even if that means burying everything real under layers of deception. I can't fault someone for that."

"If I can't feel something genuine, I'll make the illusion strong enough that even I believe it. Maybe that way, it will become real."

"And you think I'll hate you for that?"

"Won't you?"

"No. That won't happen. Komachi always told me I had much too weak heart for something like that. Besides, why would I deny someone it if I still pathetically search for my own answer?"

"..."

"..."

"…Then please, teach me how to be happy."