without truth, what else is there?

weary.

weary because human interactions are so complicated, so manipulative, so shallow.

weary because people insist on tainting their characters with lies.

it is so easy to distrust, to face each and every with skepticism in my eyes, shoulders squared cold and hard for the onslaught of more deceit. yet i chose the difficult path to walk, i chose to have faith, to believe in sincerity and the goodness in people, naive as that may seem, difficult as it may be. when i listen, i believe. when i hear, i trust. but when i least expect it, in the most innocent of circumstances, i am once again deluded. still, i insist on believing, even when this convoluted life doesn't permit so. i do not have any choice, it is the only way to live.

the phone rang at 8.45pm. it was the mother of little princess' classmate. did i know that my daughter was stuffed in an overloaded car along with 10 other people to their dinner venue just a few minutes ago? nooooooo, i didn't know that. did i know that they were just stopped by the police? the jaw dropped to the floor. noooooooo, i didn't know that. did i know that they were roaming the mall in the afternoon, instead of hanging out at the house as they should be? noooooo, i didn't know that either. she went on to moan and wail about how late it was, how irresponsible the chaperon was, how unsafe our children were. she wanted me to reprimand the guardian. she wanted me to call her and let her know that everything must wind up by 9.45. she wanted a lot of things, all of which she didn't want to dirty her own hands doing. instead, she wanted me to do the running for her. i listened. i acknowledged. i counselled. but i can't call someone up and berate her just because someone else wanted me to.

when little princess was back, i confirmed the facts with her. did she sit in a car with 10 other people? yes. were they stopped by the police? no. did they roam the mall in the afternoon? no. something so simple, something so innocent, children hanging out at each other's place. why did one felt the need to turn it into something ugly, i cannot grasp. bringing up a child is hard enough, tying apron strings, loosening apron strings, dealing with empty nests. other mothers should commiserate, not complicate. knowing in her heart that the truth will be easily confirmed, she insisted on lying to get her way. lies that are so shallow and unskillful, what is the purpose? what goes on in her mind, i don't think i will be able to understand.

my daughter is 11, by the way. it is going to be a very long hair-wrenching ride for me all the way to her adulthood.