CNF Dialouge

The action of lying is a complicated thing.

“Did you know how this happen to him?”

“No”

The first part is always the easiest, a simple ‘no’ or ‘yes’. But then the tricky part is convincing the fool you’re speaking truth.

“Are you sure?”

“Yea, I don’t know how he broke his leg.”

You have to balance a calm demeanor with some undertones of emotions. The easiest way to do that is turn the accusation on the accuser.

“What? You don’t believe me?”

“Of course I do.”

The quintessential part is your face and eyes. To convey a certain emotion like surprise or confusion it is very important that you don’t overdo it.

“Then why are you doubting me?”

“I’m not I’m just trying to find the out what happened to your brother.”

You over-dramatize an emotion and it’s clear you’re lying or hiding something. A half-second or so should do the trick. It’s the same with tone, small hints of anger or sadness in your voice is perfect.

“I already told you the truth, mom”

“I just thought you would know. You guys went to the park together didn’t you?”

It’s also easier to lie if you mix in the truth with your deception. You’re not technically lying if you add in some truth. There is deference between the truth and honesty.

“Yea but he ran off with his friends after a while. He was gone for twenty minutes before I found him.”

Also it is very important that you don’t adopt an emotionless mask while you’re lying. To little emotion is as suspicious as too much.

“Well thank you for being honesty with me”

“No problem”

If you’re lucky you won’t hear your subconscious chanting, “Liar, LIAR, LIAR!!!”

CNF Memories

              The punch was off its mark, instead of hitting my cheek it glanced over my lips with only half of the power behind it. Still… it was enough to shred my lips against my teeth, filling my mouth with the bittersweet taste of my own blood. I was fading, my arms where dead weights at my sides, my legs burned in agony from delivering numerous kicks and knees, I passed my breaking point five minutes ago and yet I fought on. It took me awhile to realize how much I was enjoying myself, relishing in the dark joy I only experience when I partake in my vicious, little ‘dance’.

            The love for fighting started when I was five, watching Dragon ball Z and shuddering in excitement when the heroes bellowed in pain or fury. Progressing into WWE when I was ten and being hypnotized by their furious, if staged, antics. My brothers were just as enchanted as I was by the deadly ‘dance’, each of us making it or life’s mission to be the supreme master over the others. The excitement and cruel sense of pride would radiate through me whenever I was victorious. The empowering sense of triumph as I stood over fallen opponents was intoxicating. My frame of mind would change; no distractions or wayward thoughts passed through my brain, nothing else mattered except the moment. ‘Quiet Intensity’ or ‘Silent Fury’ is what I personified when I ‘danced’. Feeling the aura of power burning in my blood like liquid fire let me know that I was invincible.

            Now I was losing, my body was beaten and bloody, and my tormentor was too strong this day for me to overcome. Yet I was happy, elated that my opponent was a challenge; pummeling rivals is very satisfying but nothing beats facing an opponent stronger than you. I would adapt, I would become stronger and faster to challenge to best my tormentor in the future. The knowledge that I would once again become invincible numbed any feeling of failure over the defeat but not the pain. The pain never really gets blocked out, but over the years I almost started to enjoy it. I smiled a bloody, almost demonic smile and waited for my older brother final assault.