wicked weaving

I started lying early. Boys, food, work, life, my stories snowballed until I realized that I couldn't remember what really happened. At the time (and about 426 times every day), lying seemed so much easier than telling the truth. Lies always make the liar look good, they always work in the liar's favor, they rarely result in conflict, and, after all, they were just "white lies" and they don't hurt anybody. At least, that is the lie I told myself. This is my attempt to set the record straight.

Name: Jenny

Location: Federal Way, Washington, United States

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