My name's Kat. I believe that's all you need to know. (:
True Lies
When does telling the truth become an act of terrorism?
At what point does a lie become an act of mercy? Is it cruel to tell a parent their child will die, even if it's true? Is it kind to tell an accident victim they're going to recover, even though all evidence says they won't? Where's the line dividing honesty from harm, deceit from decency, and misinformation from malice? I don't know. All the clever wordplay in the world won't somehow grant me that knowledge. I'm sorry. I wish it would.
This is what I do know; A lie, however well-intended, can't prepare you for reality or change the world. The accident victim will die whether they're promised recovery or not, but the parent told that their child is dying may have time to prepare, and may be able to treasure those final days together even more. To tell the truth is to be defeated with simple falsehoods. If these truths mean the world is less comforting than it might have been, it seems like a pretty small price to pay.
It seems to me we owe the world-more, we owe ourselves-the exchange of comfort for the chance that maybe the truth can do what people always say it can. The truth may, given the opportunity, set us free.
-K.L
When does telling the truth become an act of terrorism?
At what point does a lie become an act of mercy? Is it cruel to tell a parent their child will die, even if it's true? Is it kind to tell an accident victim they're going to recover, even though all evidence says they won't? Where's the line dividing honesty from harm, deceit from decency, and misinformation from malice? I don't know. All the clever wordplay in the world won't somehow grant me that knowledge. I'm sorry. I wish it would.
This is what I do know; A lie, however well-intended, can't prepare you for reality or change the world. The accident victim will die whether they're promised recovery or not, but the parent told that their child is dying may have time to prepare, and may be able to treasure those final days together even more. To tell the truth is to be defeated with simple falsehoods. If these truths mean the world is less comforting than it might have been, it seems like a pretty small price to pay.
It seems to me we owe the world-more, we owe ourselves-the exchange of comfort for the chance that maybe the truth can do what people always say it can. The truth may, given the opportunity, set us free.
-K.L
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