I have looked into the eyes of men so desperate to have experienced horrors only the rawest human circumstances can produce as they wove tales of morbid grandeur. Inherently, I was aware of their fallacies. For I have known men who have actually experienced these cruel realities, it is always in the eyes that you can tell. There is also a strong hesitation to the retelling and, more importantly, the reliving of that which haunts those who have seen the uglier sides of life. Staring into the eyes of they who can only sing stories about daydream experiences is almost like looking into the eyes of a lying child. I just let them have their day with my ear, as they are men and past the point of doglike correction. It is all very exhausting, the whole "pointing out a lie" thing. So carry on jester, weave your mortabulous tale - just remember this: I refuse to suspend belief in your honor because that pin lands in the "requires energy" territory on the map, and a lie is never worth such things. Cost vs. value.
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