The Politics of Honesty
Today, I had the pleasure of not going to work because I so eagerly made an appointment before I knew working was a thing this week. Oh, the joys of disorganization.
Regardless, I had a pretty good day. I didn’t accomplish a whole lot, besides finally making a copy of my dad’s keys so I can get into my freaking house and buying breadcrumbs for dinner, among other miscellaneous household tasks. But all said and done, I can’t complain. Plus, I got to color because I’m a 5 year old on the inside.
As I was watching Criminal Minds, as I often like to do because I have no self control when it comes to crime shows even though they frequently scare the shit out of me, I had a thought. Now as a warning, this hyperactive psychoanalysis of myself probably has a lot to do with the fact that I watched approximately 5 consecutive episodes of a show based on a behavioral analysis unit, or it may just be a results of the fact that I always think too much. Who the fuck knows.
Anyways, my thought was that I’m obsessed with honesty. I know, I know, you’re aware of this fact already. But for yet another post, hear me out.
As I sat watching yet another crime show I’m in love with, I realized my obsession with these horribly disturbing shows may stem from my fixation on the truth. Which would also explain my course of study. Or maybe I’m just a psycho. Again, who the fuck knows.
Most people who know me know that I’m alarmingly into the truth. Lying may be one of the most annoying, hurtful, and aggravating things that you could do to me (which unfortunately doesn’t stop people from doing it). But today I thought, maybe I need to give it a rest.
I mean, most of the population would agree that they don’t like being lied to. But my weird desire to know the whole truth gets to be a little much sometimes, in my opinion.
I just realized my argument sounds incredibly political and very Snowden-esque. But I promise my intent is not to make a statement on whether or not Edward Snowden/our government was right. Frankly, in this moment I couldn’t care less.
My argument is purely personal, like the self-absorbed millennial that I am. I just feel that it’s incredibly important for me to come to terms with that fact that I don’t need to know everything that goes on in the minds of the people in my life. It’s okay to let shit just play out the way it’s supposed to. Maybe my constant desire to know what’s going on is actually meddling in my “destiny” (whatever that means these days) instead of helping me out.
Again, who the fuck knows.
I certainly don’t, and I’m trying to be okay with that.
The Basic One