Wednesday, 5 January 2011

don't tell me that you love, just don't lie to me. don't tell that it's better, just don't lie me.

it's a strange, somewhat cynical flaw but a fundemental one nonetheless; the problem with psychiatry (and one which will no doubt remain) is that people lie.

we change the truth, our own truth and others. and we tell little white lies and mother's shaking voice, "don't tell me porky pies."

yes, it's so easy. yet it's sad because the only one who gets hurt is you and me, everyone who's ever lied, "i'm better."

x xx
My photo
somewhere over the rainbow
hullo there stranger, welcome to the better side of me.

porcelain puppet dolls