You can’t sit with us (me)

Today wasn’t the greatest and I wasn’t the most loved by all. My day started off as normal until I got onto the bus when a stranger approached me and asked “can I sit here”. This is the worst, I hate people sitting next to me on the bus when there are plenty of other, perfectly spacious and comfy seats available, that aren’t right next to me. I took this opportunity and told him “yes technically the seat is open”, he looked at me weirdly as I died inside. It was not outright rude, as I did not have an aggressive manner. I suspect he must have just thought I was odd. It wasn’t what you would consider the truth but for me it was the only time I had ever responded without a yes with a big fat fake happy smile pretending I was blessed with this strangers presence. I felt guilty and satisfied all at once.


How far does it go?

Today I was faced with a bit of a problem, I was unsure as to what being honest entailed. Did it mean that I just had to give an honest response and not lie though out the day, or did it mean that I had to voice my thoughts? Technically I can just withhold information without it being a lie, but isn’t that still manipulating the truth? Even if I don’t keep back any information, do I tell the truth by saying what I am thinking irrelevant if it was part of the conversation, if I was even supposed to respond.

I was speaking to a girl friend who happened to be wearing a rather unattractive dress. She was aware of what I was doing for my intervention and our conversation had nothing to do with our dress yet I still felt this urge to tell her that I didn’t like what she was wearing. I kept my thoughts to myself…

Our thoughts are honest but are we being dishonest if we do not share them?

The next ten days

For the next ten days we had to do something that makes us uncomfortable. I decided to be honest. It is quite a difficult thing to do, everyone lies every day. They might not be big lies, they might be insignificant but nevertheless it still happens.

Today wasn’t unbearable, nobody really knew what my intervention was. I wasn’t performing in front of people or dressed outrageously. I still visually looked the same.