I have said in the past to my friends, "If life is just a lie, what's the point?" And always they have had some answer. Always have they told me that there are people who love me, people who do not lie to me. There are things I can do and places I can go. And finally, they always tell me that I am wrong. Life is not a lie. But I know that I am right, and I can prove it.
Take one person off the street and ask them if they have ever lied. If they say no, they are lying. We have all lied -- to parents, to teachers, to friends, to boyfriends and girlfriends. Sometimes it is more serious, like to the police, or a husband or wife. But it is all lies. Moreover, we often lie to ourselves.
So in this way, how can life not be a lie?
Look at it from another point of view. What is there to live for? There is love -- that solution offered so many times by one of my closest friends. And yet how can I break his heart by explaining it is not always there? Look at love, and you will see cracks. Because those lies, they get in right there: right where you are most sensitive. And not only do they destroy love, but they come in and there are more lies.
And what about unrequited love? That is another way in which we lie to ourselves. We say "I do not love him" and "It will all work out" when we know that it will not. There is another lie -- the lie that everybody has told themselves at some point. This life is a lie!
Now focus on the other solution you are given, "Truth". For you can argue that some people do not live this lie, they live their own truth. But I reply, "Not everybody." There is always someone who says that little thing to stop themselves from getting in trouble and that, that is where it starts. And it escalates. And there it is: the lie of life.
However, people tell me, this is not the only part of life which exists. Surely some part of it is true? But I tell them no. How do we know that any of this is real? It might be somebody's imagination, or a dream we are having. And when we 'die' it may just be that we wake up, in another place. Maybe we have been dreaming all this time.
The people that tell me that life is not a lie are people who have not yet thought of this. And they are the people who have never had to deal with the empty promises of parents and friends. They are the people who have never hoped for something which never materialised; they are the people who have never looked for a future that vanished when they got too close.