polite lies and brutal truths

building trust on the road to nowhere

Never trust anyone with tact, Alex spat with his punctuation, our faces dripped with his disgust.

You fucking Canadians? How can anybody here trust anybody? You’re all so fucking fake every moment of every day.

Alex was driving me home after I dropped off my car. He moved here from Russia not long before the invasion.

Everybody’s fucked. They’re all criminals, he snorted. You Canadians, you don’t get it. People are brutal. We’re fucking animals. You cowards, you hide behind your manners and smiles.

Growing up, you knew exactly who the snitches were. They played games. The were not honest. They tried to be nice and not rude.

In his mid sixties, Alex knew to be wary of anyone being ‘too nice’ or ‘asking too many questions’.

Alex and I could probably get along really well. He doesn’t believe in holding back and I have a very poor verbal filter.

We’d probably know exactly when the other was pissed off and we’d likely snarl back and forth from time to time.

Who do you feel safe to snarl with?

Whe…