I was told: ” It’s not the lies you tell others that are the problem. It’s the lies you tell yourself and believe them, that are the problem.”
I took to the principles of honesty with zeal, which would get it’s test here…
I had my back to the wall and somebody was in the wrong place.
Casper was a dealer, who convinced himself that I was a cop and paced in front of me like a caged animal removing his shirt, which he threw in the corner and turned towards me to share his thoughts.
“The reason I’m takin off my shirt is so after me and you is done doin the 2 step you’ll be able to identify me by my tattoos… for when you’re filling out your report.”
“I’m not a cop.”
“Then what are you?”
“I’m somebody who likes to get high and you are really fucking with that right now…
What I really am is scared… and when I get scared bad things tend to happen.”
Casper snorted some form of acknowledgement before picking up his shirt.
” I bet this shit works for you, doesn’t it?”
“Looking like a cop.”
“Working like a charm tonight…”
No one got in my way as I left and I can now spell Gratitude.