Whatever happened to honesty?

I’ve lost patience with the people who practice patience and try to ‘protect’ feelings. Whatever happened to honesty?

Everyone just accepts everything from anyone, these days.

I have a friend who has a sexually transmittable disease. It is fatal, if untreated. Or if you don’t know that you actually have it. Yet he sleeps without protection with many, many people. But he says nothing. Knowing full well what he has. He is killing the innocent. Or even the semi-innocent, depending on your view.

I have another friend who is having an affair with a married man. She thinks it is cute and lovely and fabulous to have a man who “loves” her in return and spends good money on her, purchasing lavish gifts. But sweetie, there’s a clue in the title. How can you trust and dedicate your love to a man whom you met whilst he was cheating on his original love? Do you think, honey, that faithfulness is a particularly strong character trait in your new love? On the other hand, do you know what it would feel like to be the wife of a man who cheats on you? Can you imagine how utterly destructive and worthless that would make you feel?

I know another who has an attention deficit disorder. Whose family dumped him when he was very young. Whose aunt had to raise him instead. People understand that he “had a hard life”, and are thus very accepting and forgiving of him. But this of course now gives him an excuse to be disruptive wherever and however he finds himself. This of course gives him an excuse to be socially inept. This gives him an excuse to behave in an inappropriate way in circumstances that absolutely depend on appropriate behaviour (whatever that is). Many words are spoken by this man. But there is little substance. He craves for attention. He gets it. But again, there is little substance to this man. The performance he gives on a daily basis is fake and based on the past. The long, forgotten and perhaps not so bad, if even, unnatural past?

I know of another friend, who craves for a relationship. She is 31 years old. Yet she has spent most of her lived and living life with her parents. Or failing that, locked in her own house. Trying to meet the man of her dreams. But locked away – by her own choice – in her living room. Watching TV on a Saturday night. But, at every opportunity that she gets with me, she will complain, cry and be frustrated that she is still alone. Still not met the man of her dreams. Or the father of her children.

“Do what you’ve always done and you’ll get what you’ve always got,” I tell her. She doesn’t seem to get that, just yet. However, when she does – if she does - , she may be 63, and too old to do anything more about it without assisted help.

I know even another friend. Who has been violent with the very people whom he tells me that he loves. He has been violent not once. But thrice. Violent. Physically. The people he loves (or loved) then carried visible bruises, blood and broken bones.

And yet not one says anything. Nothing.

For fear of upsetting. For fear of hurting their feelings. For fear of ‘getting involved’.

Before I go any further, you should know, if you don’t already, that I am not Mother Theresa. And I could be one or all of the people I have just described.

“They are grown folk. Let them sort it out on their own.” confident and trusted advisors tell me.

But I am tired of being sweet. Of being nice. Of being considerate. Some things just need to be said.

Am I the one to say them?



Far too many people are taking the horse-whisperer approach. Whispering sweet nothings to the injured, sick horse who really needs good, solid help. Without which it will surely die.

That horse really does not need a soft whisperer, but the sight of a cocked, loaded gun point to its head.

The time is short, and this fairy tale that you live in is all but about to end unless you realise that the crap that you believe or are performing on another r is hurting someone. It could be you, it could be someone else.

Bottom line is that somewhere, somehow, someone is going to die, whether physically, mentally or even just a part of their incomplete character. Unless you change what it is you are doing.

If you listen, you can at least take the responsibility for causing the extended, happier life of someone. Instead of impending doom and / or unhappiness. Which, if prolonged, I believe ends in doom anyway.

Can we… should we… be a just a little bit more honest with each other? The cost could be high. But the cost of not doing so is, I am almost certain, even higher.

I could use your honesty. Could you use mine?