Excerpts From Nonexistent Books

The forest was ever tinder-twig dry and the dead brown of fall leaves. A dull, listless life kept the trees from rotting and their leaves from dropping, but each spring would find none of the green shoots and renewal visited on other woodlands.

Most who passed by preferred to avoid that wood, for legend had it that the elders of a nearby town had tied its fate with their own through a long-forgotten ceremony. As the town’s sins multiplied and grew, as weeds choked the farmers’ fields, so too did the forest darken and cease to bloom. Those who cared to comment said that the evils of the town were tied up in the trees, forever poisoning the land, and attracting all manner of darknesses to swallow up the unwary.

But those who braved the interior of the dead wood found, at its heart, a green and living tree. In spring, it alone among the boughs would be crowned with young shoots and flowers the color of driven snow. None could say why it alone was spared the fate of the others, but all agreed that its light shining in the darkness was an inspiration to lost and lonely travelers in their peril.

Much as the evils of the town were tied up in the other trees, so too was its hope made manifest in that last unspoilt bough.

“When you take enough middle-of-the-road, wishy-washy, and hard-to-pin-down positions–not just on the important stuff but in your day-to-day life–you risk creating an ambiguus.”

“I…I don’t understand.”

“What’s not to understand? You’ve made things so easy, so autopilot, that a being which has little self-awareness other than a need for self-preservation and desire to feed on raw banality can take your place and no one will notice.”

Hypocrisy is unavoidable in modern life. All but the most careful people will eventually contradict themselves, and nearly everyone holds others to higher standards than they hold themselves–it’s just human nature. I don’t necessarily believe that the disguising of one’s feelings is hypocrisy.

If everyone openly displayed their feelings and was completely, brutally honest, I hate to think of what the world would be like. If I thought a woman was ugly as a warthog, I’d tell her when she asked. If I was in a lousy mood, I’d make sure everyone knew. (‘How are you doing?’ ‘Lousy, you goddamn piece of crap. Piss off and leave me alone.’).

That’s not hypocrisy.

Hiding one’s feelings isn’t always best, but it does serve a purpose, and more importantly, it’s not a contradiction that others can see. I could be smiling on the outside and sullen on the inside, but who could tell? People could guess, but I would rarely, if ever, state my true feelings if I was hiding them.