Nocturne #21 – Lie
This is a deeply personal story about my inability to lie. It all stems from a formative childhood memory of stealing a classmate's toy gun and telling an "enchanting" lie to cover it up. The intense public shame I felt when the truth was revealed became a powerful, lifelong lesson that shaped my unwavering commitment to honesty.
The one thing I’m no good at is lying.
I despise lies and deceit more than anything. If I try to lie, it’s as if the word “LIE” gets etched onto my forehead in wrinkles.
And you know what? A lie never stays just a lie. Sooner or later, it finds a crack and inevitably leaks out from what seems like a secure safe. Time… time is the key to that safe.
My first lie was my greatest lesson, a moment of public shame. I was little—in the first or second grade. I still loved toys and conducting experiments on them. One day, a classmate brought a toy gun to school and was proudly showing it off during class. I was immediately captivated by its matte gray texture, its realistic design, and its weight. My eyes welled up as I got lost in dreams about that gun. When the teacher noticed my classmate’s mischief, she confiscated it and placed it on her desk.
Then came recess. I was the only one left in the classroom… just me and the gun of my dreams. I don’t remember how the toy ended up in my hands, but I remember running out to the school stadium with a face beaming with pure joy because it was mine to hold. I could feel its material; I loved it! Click! Click! Click! I fired off the last few yellow pellets… My excitement knew no bounds! Then—Bang! Bang! Bang!
As events unfolded, that gun somehow followed me all the way home. I concocted an “enchanting” lie for my family, telling them that my classmate had eleven of these guns and had gifted one to me. But at the same time, something was pinching at me inside. I felt that something was wrong. As time went on, I felt more and more guilty.
When the truth came out, it was a massive trauma for me. I wished the earth would swallow me whole. I imagined an army of special forces descending from helicopters on ropes to liquidate me.
After that story, I have never stolen, and I have never lied.
My “enchanting” lies carry the same absurd logic as my classmate having eleven toy guns back then.
So, may my lies never see the light of day…
I have never lied to you.