Life’s a bell curve — except the bell rings backwards
It's like someone hit rewind on evolution and called it adulting
You start life honest. Not noble. Honest.
Because babies haven’t yet learnt the art of survival or as the adults call it "political correctness"
Their tongues haven’t been coached in "don't say this" "don't say that"
That’s honesty. Raw. Bloody. Basic.
Unfiltered truth, before school uniformed your tongue and manners duct-taped your instinct
And then comes the downhill climb
The plunge into politeness, into being "nice", into “saying the right thing at the right time in the right tone with the right facial expression” even if it’s the wrongest fucking thing you’ve ever said
You grow into lies, like puberty
Only this time, it’s not hair on your body — it’s masks on your face
You lie to fit in, you lie to fuck
You lie for paychecks, you lie for life
Because truth?
Truth doesn’t make you rich, truth doesn’t get you friends, truth doesn't even get you family
Truth gets you jailed on good days and killed on bad days
By the time you're thirty, you’re a fucking lie-factory with a 9-to-5 job and a 24/7 anxiety
Smiling at people you wish would choke on their breakfast, telling them how you should catch up more often, when you’d rather catch syphilis instead
And then one day, the curve bends again
Not because you're ageing but because life’s grown out of patience with this premium quality manufactured bullshit
Your truths come back — but this time, with scars and fangs
Not the kindergarten honesty that said “I don’t like spinach.” No.
This is the “I don’t like people and I’ve stopped pretending otherwise.”
You stop lying, not because you’re brave
Because you’re too fucking tired to rehearse versions of yourself just to keep people comfortable, people who'll stay by you only as long as your truths align with their conveniences
This new truth: it’s not innocent, it’s more acidic than bile
It’s seen enough layoffs, divorces, EMIs and deaths to not give a single, discounted fuck anymore
You say shit now, loud and clear
Unfiltered. Unapologetic.
Because you’ve realised no one wants the truth
They wanted their version of truth, wrapped in ribbon, soaked in sugar, and presented with folded hands
They want free speech, as long as it doesn’t crumble their temples and mosques and churches and parliaments
They want rebellion, as long as it’s posted on social media, not sprayed on their pretentious faces
They want facts, as long as they come with an agenda that suits their faiths
They want news that makes them angry but keeps them safe
They want godmen who preach peace while molesting daughters and murdering sons
They want governments that sell patriotism per kilo, with a side of GDP-flavored nationalism
It's funny, isn’t it, how we start life with truth
Spend decades learning how to fake the very truths into lies so convenient so velvet it melts in the palette like truth was a cupcake
And then spend the rest of our remaning lives unlearning the conditioned reflex of lying in the name of honesty
Everyone wants the truth
Until it grows teeth, speaks in their mother tongue, and calls them out by name
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