Taste the Truth

~ Does this make sense to anyone else or is it only me?~

Possibly I am a pathological liar. I have not checked the symptoms on the internet, as I meant to. I got busy in other things; calling Kay, talking to James. I presume I am not, but I have thought about it. I think a pathological liar believes her lies. I do not believe mine. It is the fact that I know they are lies that makes me do it. See how far I can go, see if I can make my audience believe me. Perhaps that is why I enjoy writing so much. Writing is an acceptable lie: label it fiction and it gets on the best seller list, if it's good enough. In life, lies are punished. On paper, they are rewarded. Yet, maybe on paper I am more myself then even in life. Perhaps writing brings out the truth more then I would let myself believe.

There, I have confused myself. I am losing my grasp of the line between where I end and the lies begin, between who I am and the world of dreams I have so carefully woven. I have made people believe in those dreams. I make them laugh with my lies. So, they think it is truth. What of it? Ignorance is bliss and my stories give them a respite. And they earn me a respect, an admiration. I am 'crazy', I am 'wild'. I like those labels. Why tell the truth and force them to add 'liar' to the list of adjectives after my name?

You think I am a butterfly that you cannot grasp. I am just two scared to let you hold me. Not a butterfly so much as a coward. Did you know you are my first? There is real truth, a hard truth, a horrible truth. You are my first love, my first real lover, my first time everything. I just want you to kiss me. When you touch me, everything is sprinkled with glitter. I do not need an alternate world; reality is enough. Lies are not needed when you kiss me, just the softness of your lips. You are honey, laced with cocaine. That sounds ridiculous. But it's true. You are so sweet but so dangerous, so addictive. You taste so good, so warm but I know you are twisted with darkness. There are so many sides to you. I cannot lie to you. Lies would make this even more complicated. You are mystery enough without me constantly tripping over my own half-truths, my own fantasy realities. The truth shall set you free. A quote I heard, possibly from the Bible. I wouldn't know I am not religious. The truth does not set me free with you. It is another secret that binds me more to you, for only you know of it.

I always told you the truth. I lied to the others, not you. I never won that medal for tennis, I never lay drunk under the stars and danced naked in the rain, I never kissed that boy, I have never even seen that drug. I made it up, fabricated it. I wove the lies without much thought. I did not plan this. They fall out of my mouth, slide like snakes. I could not grasp at the words to pull them back in. They slithered out of my reach. Please, I never lied to you. When I was around you, I did not even lie to myself. Lying in you car, smoking the Camels, telling you the stories of my life. They were true, all of them. Those stories happened, they all happened.

Most of them happened.

I am pretty, aren't I? Green eyes, caramel hair. Skin the color of smooth white chocolate. Look into my eyes and you'll believe me, you'll see that what I give to you is true. That the person you held in your arms, lying in the Hollywood Hills that was really me. Just me, with my insecurities, my hopes, my little oddities. You know I hate any kind of seafood, that I love penguins, that I will always dream of being a princess. You know the way music makes me feel. That wasn't a lie. I really do lie for hours in my room, listening to music, absorbing myself in it, letting it enter me and I enter it until we are one. The music holds me. That wasn't a lie, not a lie, not a lie. With you, the truth was the only story I ever told. The truth shone like gold. Other people do not listen like you; their eyes don't have the spark of understanding. Other people do not have your chocolate hair, your flashing grey-blue eyes. They do not have the skill of turning the mundane truth that falls from my lips into a fairytale truth, one that makes me feel so special. Like the Princess I always dream of being. Your musician’s hands craft my life into a beautiful fantasy and not one word is a lie. It is the most amazing feeling. You make me whole, you fill the space the lies fill. Please don't take that away from me. I need you just to breathe.

Fine, don't believe me.

Turn your back, close your heart. I listened to you, those nights when your world shattered. I held your head on my lap and traced your lips, I melted my goodness into you. I made you a better person, too, admit it. Tell the truth about me. Let me hear the truth. I would make up stories and you would laugh and a rainbow shone, for both of us. Reember how itfelt to hear those stories? It felt good, it felt great. It felt like the world wasn't so damn boring and hurtful. take a moment to understand why I have this desire, this hunger for something more then the world around me. Please, where are you going? Why are you leaving?

Walk away. Walk away, with your guitar over your shoulder, with your silver earrings flashing in the gleam of the streetlights.

Just know this: Despite everything, I always believed in you.

Yeah it makes complete sense to me. I can relate to this. I didn't see many errors at all. Good job!

"In life, lies are punished. On paper, they are rewarded. Yet, maybe on paper I am more myself then even in life. Perhaps writing brings out the truth more then I would let myself believe."


these couple lines are quite possibly the best ones i've read in a long time. very well put.

Usually when one writes a peice as long as this one about one subject the writer repeates himself. Which gets on my nerves, but you didn't. This was very honest coming from the POV of a compulsive liar. It's an interesting twist that I enjoyed.

Until next time, Stay In Love With Love.

Chanson wrote:~ Does this make sense to anyone else or is it only me?~

I genuinely enjoyed that .

A few points I would bring up, however; imo the first segment, which dealt in very abstract terms, was fantastic. I lost a little interest when the story became more personal.

Possibly I am a pathological liar. I have not checked the symptoms on the internet, as I meant to. I got busy in other things; calling Kay, talking to James. I presume I am not, but I have thought about it. I think a pathological liar believes her lies. I do not believe mine. It is the fact that I know they are lies that makes me do it. See how far I can go, see if I can make my audience believe me. Perhaps that is why I enjoy writing so much. Writing is an acceptable lie: label it fiction and it gets on the best seller list, if it's good enough. In life, lies are punished. On paper, they are rewarded. Yet, maybe on paper I am more myself then even in life. Perhaps writing brings out the truth more then I would let myself believe.

There, I have confused myself. I am losing my grasp of the line between where I end and the lies begin, between who I am and the world of dreams I have so carefully woven. I have made people believe in those dreams. I make them laugh with my lies. So, they think it is truth. What of it? Ignorance is bliss and my stories give them a respite. And they earn me a respect, an admiration. I am 'crazy', I am 'wild'. I like those labels. Why tell the truth and force them to add 'liar' to the list of adjectives after my name?

I mean this was fantastic, and something I can almost entirely relate to. It was really well written and flowed. I liked "Yet, maybe on paper I am more myself then even in life" alot, although I thought it might be better written as "Yet, maybe on paper I'm more myself than I ever was in reality" or something. I guess I'm nitpicking here... and trying to impose my style on your work is never a good thing, is it? I did genuinely like it as it was, just thought there was a little room for improvement. On the whole - awesome.

You think I am a butterfly that you cannot grasp. I am just two scared to let you hold me. Not a butterfly so much as a coward. Did you know you are my first? There is real truth, a hard truth, a horrible truth. You are my first love, my first real lover, my first time everything. I just want you to kiss me. When you touch me, everything is sprinkled with glitter. I do not need an alternate world; reality is enough. Lies are not needed when you kiss me, just the softness of your lips. You are honey, laced with cocaine. That sounds ridiculous. But it's true. You are so sweet but so dangerous, so addictive. You taste so good, so warm but I know you are twisted with darkness. There are so many sides to you. I cannot lie to you. Lies would make this even more complicated. You are mystery enough without me constantly tripping over my own half-truths, my own fantasy realities. The truth shall set you free. A quote I heard, possibly from the Bible. I wouldn't know I am not religious. The truth does not set me free with you. It is another secret that binds me more to you, for only you know of it.

Wow, this guy must've been amazing! (I'm assuming theres at least a kernel of truth in your lover story popcorn? ) Having both been in love and used cocaine heavily, I can relate to both, especially what you wrote about just wanting to be kissed and touched... so hot. Those feelings are really difficult to get down on paper though, aren't they?
On a side note I hope to write something similar but supplanting the man for drugs. Love is very much like an addiction; or rather addiction to a substance is very much like (a substitute) for love.
(Oh and he tastes so good? really conveying the passions well though! hehe)

I am pretty, aren't I? Green eyes, caramel hair. Skin the color of smooth white chocolate. Look into my eyes and you'll believe me, you'll see that what I give to you is true. That the person you held in your arms, lying in the Hollywood Hills that was really me. Just me, with my insecurities, my hopes, my little oddities. You know I hate any kind of seafood, that I love penguins, that I will always dream of being a princess. You know the way music makes me feel. That wasn't a lie. I really do lie for hours in my room, listening to music, absorbing myself in it, letting it enter me and I enter it until we are one. The music holds me. That wasn't a lie, not a lie, not a lie. With you, the truth was the only story I ever told. The truth shone like gold. Other people do not listen like you; their eyes don't have the spark of understanding. Other people do not have your chocolate hair, your flashing grey-blue eyes. They do not have the skill of turning the mundane truth that falls from my lips into a fairytale truth, one that makes me feel so special. Like the Princess I always dream of being. Your musician’s hands craft my life into a beautiful fantasy and not one word is a lie. It is the most amazing feeling. You make me whole, you fill the space the lies fill. Please don't take that away from me. I need you just to breathe.

This is the part I found most uninvolving, perhaps cos I'm male? xD I've given it a fair chance so far though so Iunno, it just seemed very personal and not anything I could empathise with. I guess the more abstract it was, the more I could project myself into it, imagine it was me. With something so short and no great characterisation, you have to really be able to imagine yourself in the "story".

Fine, don't believe me.

Turn your back, close your heart. I listened to you, those nights when your world shattered. I held your head on my lap and traced your lips, I melted my goodness into you. I made you a better person, too, admit it. Tell the truth about me. Let me hear the truth. I would make up stories and you would laugh and a rainbow shone, for both of us. Reember how itfelt to hear those stories? It felt good, it felt great. It felt like the world wasn't so damn boring and hurtful. take a moment to understand why I have this desire, this hunger for something more then the world around me. Please, where are you going? Why are you leaving?

Walk away. Walk away, with your guitar over your shoulder, with your silver earrings flashing in the gleam of the streetlights.

Just know this: Despite everything, I always believed in you.

Now, picks up again near the end. I really got a sense for how empty you felt after everything - and if I had to add my interpretation, I would guess that lies were told (definitely by you, possibly on both sides) that ruined something that was once amazing, exciting and passionate. And there's definitely alot of guilt and regret being projected onto the page by you.
this is all assuming, of course, that this actually took place. It just feels so real I can't help thinking this all happened to you... I hope it didn't but, better to love and lost, right?


Sorry. I know that was a poor review, I've not particularly refined my reviewing ability...!

Hola im Ella, I shall be your critic today. i have to saythat this is one of the best things i have ever read on this site, and thats alot.
I really liked your view of everything going on. One thingi think you need to work on is making your paragraphs spaller it got kind of confusing after a while.
I really hope you will post more things like this soon!!!

Woah...
Speechless,have nothing else to say..



Does that in any way explain what a talent you have?!
I wrote a story,my first romantic story, and I got a lot of critics. And yes.Yes I was upset. I still sorta am. So I wrote a reply,to cut this short, saying that they were being a little harsh. I got back a reply saying that critical reviews were to be appreciated and that I should appreciate them more,and some crap that I was threatening them. I never did. Any Way, The point of me telling you is,that it makes you feel good when you know someone likes your story?!
It does. So what I'm trying to do is to let you know just how good this story actually is.
You have a talent and someday I know that I will see a book on the shelf,I'll pick it up and the name Chanson will be in big bold letters.
You have raw talent like I've never seen before.
Be proud of this,
And make others proud they got to review this.
Kaka x DDD

You used I too many times in your piece and it was a bit long....you might havw wanted to shorten that up a bit before posting it. When things are really long your readers are not really interested in reading it and their attention is drawn to other pieces. But I'm sure it was well done.

I found this really long and draggy. It went a bit too far.

But the content is really good, and you really thought about all aspects. Really well done! Just shorten it a little and take some bits out and this could really really work.

Well done

Continue writing

Ugh, don't listen to these people who say it's too long and draggy. Obviously they haven't read any substantial literature. Anyways, this makes perfect sense to me. As a writer, I can relate to the high we get off of lying. How the audience eats it up because their lives are boring and pathetically routine. It's amazing what we can make people believe, and we can push them to their intellectual limits. Your piece was very thought provoking, because it was a lie. Then again maybe you were telling the truth about how you felt. Will we ever know? No. Should you inform us? Never.

]I really liked this story a lot. It feels very fresh and new even though the topic of lying is so prevalent in literature, especially on this website. I'm gonna do some nitpicking though if that's alright with you. If not disregard the rest of this post and just know that what you wrote was amazing and touching.


Possibly I am a pathological liar. I have not checked the symptoms on the internet, as I meant to.I absolutely love this intro. It really draws the reader in and is not cliche at all I got busy in other things; calling Kay, talking to James. I presume I am not, but I have thought about it. I think a pathological liar believes her lies. I do not believe mine. It is the fact that I know they are lies that makes me do it. See how far I can go, see if I can make my audience believe me. Technically that wasn't a sentence since a sentence requires a direct subject and verb where as your sentence only has indirect subjects and a verb. This mistake repeats itself a lot throughout your paper so if you want to fix it, be on the look out. I can understand the effect you are going for though so you may want to overlook that it is grammatically incorrect. The choice is yours and yours alone. *spooky Perhaps that is why I enjoy writing so much. Writing is an acceptable lie: label it fiction and it gets on the best seller list, if it's good enough. In life, lies are punished. On paper, they are rewarded. Yet, maybe on paper I am more myself than even[delete the even] in life. Perhaps writing brings out the truth more than I would let myself believe.

There, I have confused myself. I am losing my grasp of the line between where I end and the lies begin, between who I am and the world of dreams I have so carefully woven. I have made people believe in those dreams. I make them laugh with my lies.I don't get this. Are your lies funny? If not then why are they laughing? So, they think it is truth. What of it? Ignorance is bliss and my stories give them a respite. And they earn me a respect, an admirationThis sentence doesn't make sense. Did they earn your respect and admiration or did you earn theirs? Either way should fix it. I am 'crazy', I am 'wild'. I like those labels. Why tell the truth and force them to add 'liar' to the list of adjectives after my name?

You think I am a butterfly that you cannot grasp. I am just too scared to let you hold me. Not a butterfly so much as a coward. Did you know you are my first? There is real truth, a hard truth, a horrible truth. You are my first love, my first real lover, my first time everything. I just want you to kiss me. When you touch me, everything is sprinkled with glittera bit cliche. I do not need an alternate world; reality is enough. Lies are not needed when you kiss me, just the softness of your lips. You are honey, laced with cocainelove this!. That sounds ridiculous. But it's true. You are so sweet but so dangerous, so addictive. You taste so good, so warm but I know you are twisted with darkness. There are so many sides to you. I cannot lie to you. Lies would make this even more complicated. You are mystery enough without me constantly tripping over my own half-truths, my own fantasy realities. start a new paragraph before "the truth" or else the reader will see it as you still talking to your boyfriend instead of making a general statement The truth shall set you free. A quote I heard, possibly from the Bible. I wouldn't know I am not religious. The truth does not set me free with you. It is another secret that binds me more to you, for only you know of it.

I always told you the truth. I lied to the others, not you. I never won that medal for tennis, I never lay drunk under the stars and danced naked in the rain, I never kissed that boy, I have never even seen that drug. I made it up, fabricated it.Like your use of words! I wove the lies without much thought. I did not plan this. They fell out of my mouth, slide [should be slid] like snakes. I could not grasp at the words to pull them back in. They slithered out of my reach. Please, I never lied to you. When I was around you, I did not even lie to myself. Lying in you car, smoking the Camels, telling you the stories of my life. I like the play on words with "lying"]They were true, all of them. Those stories happened, they all happened.

Most of them happened.

I am pretty, aren't I? Green eyes, caramel hair. Skin the color of smooth white chocolate. Look into my eyes and you'll believe me, you'll see that what I give to you is true.At this point it's too late to describe yourself. The reader has already formulated their own idea of what you look like and will be annoyed when your description doesn't match theirs. I would just get rid of it all together. Not describing yourself makes the story more personal to the reader. That the person you held in your arms, lying in the Hollywood Hills that was really me. Just me, with my insecurities, my hopes, my little oddities. You know add "that" so that the sentence structure is consistentI hate any kind of seafood, that I love penguins, that I will always dream of being a princess. You know the way music makes me feel. That wasn't a lie. I really do liethis might just be me but as soon as you say the word lie I automatically think of the other kind of lie now. I would use a different verb so that it is less confusing and does not send the reader looking for plays on words that don't exist. Or if one does make it more clear cause I didn't catch it. for hours in my room, listening to music, absorbing myself in it, letting it enter me and I enter it until we are one. The music holds me. That wasn't a lie, not a lie, not a lie. With you, the truth was the only story I ever told. The truth shone like gold.I can't find the purpose of that sentence Other people do not listen like you; their eyes don't have the spark of understanding. Other people do not have your chocolate hair, your flashing grey-blue eyes.Don't describe who you are talking to. The reader would feel like you are talking to them if you didn't describe someone else. The more involved the reader feels, the better! They do not have the skill of turning the mundane truth that falls from my lips into a fairytale truth, one that makes me feel so special. Like the Princess I always dream of being. Your musician’s hands craft my life into a beautiful fantasy and not one word is a lie. It is the most amazing feeling. You make me whole, you fill the space the lies fill. Please don't take that away from me. I need you just to breathe.cliche

Fine, don't believe me.

Turn your back, close your heart. I listened to you, those nights when your world shattered. I held your head on my lap and traced your lips, I melted my goodness into you. I made you a better person,omit the comma too, admit it. Tell the truth about me. Let me hear the truth. I would make up storiesI thought you said you never lied? and you would laugh and a rainbow shone, for both of us. Remember how itinsert a space herefelt to hear those stories? It felt good, it felt great. It felt like the world wasn't so damn boring and hurtful. take capitalize the "t"a moment to understand why I have this desire, this hunger for something more than the world around me. Please, where are you going? That should have been two different sentences since the idea of begging "please" and asking where the other character is going are two separate ideas Why are you leaving?

Walk away. Walk away, with your guitar over your shoulder, with your silver earrings flashing in the gleam of the streetlights. Once again, don't describe the person you are talking to

Just know this: Despite everything, I always believed in you.[/quote]
So just to recap the story was really really amazing and original, it just needs some tweaking is all. Oh, and please bare with me on the whole red font thing. It's my first time doing a review this way.