In which I am not a liar

Ok, so that's a lie. I am a liar. I lie to people a lot. Mostly about stupid stuff, like whether or not I've eaten today. But I do have a bit of a reputation of lying. Aspies can't be dishonest my ass.

But I haven't lied here. At least not one that's lasted more than three seconds. Lying here just seems wrong. Bending the perspective of things and omitting some information is a bit different. And I have done that a bit. Well, a lot.

When I was in middle school, I read the diary of Anne Frank. Ever since then, I've always wondered if someone years down the line would find my writing and publish it. And since then, I've cared about the kind of person I come off as to the world when I write. Even in those journals that no one is supposed to read. Especially in blogs, where I want people to like me. And when all this stuff happened with Anya, there was so much going on that I could avoid this tiny little problem and most likely nobody noticed.

But it's a whole lot more than a tiny problem now. Today proved that.

I was at work earlier today. Which means that it started out boring, and it stayed boring for quite a while. I was pretty certain it was going to end that way when the voices in my head cut out and there was nothing but silence.

You have to understand what it's like having that noise in your head all day. It gnaws at you, wears you down, makes you willing to do anything for just a moment for it all to stop. And he provides that. I looked out the window, and I saw him. Just waiting, like always. I stared at him and I couldn't look away.

I mentioned once that when I saw him first he reminded me of how I felt about Darth Vader. And he does. But fear is not the only thing that I fear when I look at either of them. Sure, the fear is the main feeling. But there's an awe there. A recognition that the figure before me holds a power that I don't know of, and could never have. Even as I find myself terrified, he commands respect. And I give it to him.

I only stopped looking at him because my coworker Juan had grabbed my arm and pulled me out of the street I had been walking into. It was empty and the crosswalk was on my side, but it was still unnerving to realize what I had been doing.

I remember it all. I know that I walked there on my own, and I have no missing time whatsoever. But this has made me realize something that I have been wondering for a while but never had any proof of.  I am not in control of myself, he is. It's possible he has been for a while.

The voices are back now. I can understand some of what they're saying. Steve L. Martin. Larry E. Stone. John J. Clark. I don't know what they mean, or why I'm hearing them. But they unnerve me, both for the fact that I'm hearing them and that they're driving me towards the being that I hate the most.

So no more lies or half truths or omissions. It's too late for that.