The Lie We All Breathe: Dancing with Ridiculousness

The atmosphere is reflective yet tense, a weighty silence filling the air. Kadija, Zara, and George sit in comfortable chairs arranged in a circle. A low table with a single glass of water sits between them, untouched.

Kadija: (leaning forward slightly, voice sharp)

“Why do we lie when we all know the truth? It’s not survival — it’s suffocation. We’ve made a game out of deceiving ourselves, even as we choke on the lies.”

Zara: (thoughtful, her voice calm but probing)

“And yet we pretend it’s necessary. Is it self-preservation, or are we just too cowardly to face what’s real?”

George: (frowning, shifting in his chair)

“Come on, it’s human nature. We lie to keep the peace, to avoid hurting people. Sometimes it’s even necessary — for survival, for relationships, for politics. No one really wants the raw truth.”

Kadija: (snapping back, her tone unyielding)

“Necessary? For survival? No, George. That’s the excuse. The reality is, lying is about disrespect — to life, to God, and to yourself. It’s a direct insult to the One who gave us clarity and alignment, as if we know better than Him.”

Zara: (nodding, adding softly)

“And it’s not just the big lies. It’s the small ones that rot us from within. The ones we tell ourselves when we justify cutting corners, keeping secrets, or staying silent when we should speak up.”

George: (defensive, but intrigued)

“But isn’t it sometimes kinder to lie? I mean, not everything needs to be said. Some truths are too heavy — they’ll crush people.”

Kadija: (leaning back, her gaze unwavering)

“Truth doesn’t crush people. Lies do. Lies build false foundations, and when they collapse — and they always do — everything on top crumbles with them. If you really cared about someone, you’d respect them enough to give them the truth, not coddle them with illusions.”

Zara: (jumping in, her tone sharp but compassionate)

“Besides, the heaviest burden isn’t the truth — it’s carrying the weight of lies. You think you’re protecting people, but you’re really just prolonging their suffering. Truth frees. Lies trap. Every time.”

Kadija: (voice rising slightly, filled with conviction)

“We’re the only species that creates chaos for no reason other than arrogance or greed. Every tree, every animal, every molecule exists in harmony with its purpose. Meanwhile, we — the supposed pinnacle of creation — use our free will to disrupt, destroy, and deceive. It’s revolting.”

George: (quietly, almost to himself)

“But isn’t some of it about survival? We lie because we’re afraid — of rejection, of failure, of losing control.”

Kadija: (cutting him off)

“Afraid? Yes. But what are we really afraid of? The truth itself? Or the fact that the truth demands accountability? Lies are just an escape — a coward’s refuge. And worse, we know it. Deep down, every single one of us knows we’re lying. The air we breathe knows. The ground we stand on knows. God knows. So why are we pretending? For what?”

Zara: (shaking her head)

“It’s not even effective. Everyone can see through it. We sit in rooms full of liars, each of us knowing the other is lying, and we play along as if the truth doesn’t exist. It’s insanity.”

George: (sighing, running a hand through his hair)

“So you’re saying we should all just live in brutal honesty all the time? That’s not realistic. People would tear each other apart.”

Kadija: (smirking, her tone sharp but not unkind)

“Honesty isn’t brutality, George. It’s clarity. It’s integrity. And it’s sticking to your damn lane. If everyone just respected their own responsibilities instead of meddling in others’ lives — or worse, trying to play God — there’d be no tearing apart. Just harmony.”

Zara: (gently, her eyes fixed on George)

“It’s about alignment, not perfection. You don’t have to fix everything or everyone. Just live your truth. Respect the boundaries of your role. Let others do the same. That’s where peace begins.”

Kadija: (leaning forward again, her voice quieter but no less intense)

“We were given specific responsibilities — roles, lanes, paths to walk. But instead of honoring those, we overstep. We try to dictate in areas that aren’t ours to touch. We meddle in the grand orchestration of life, thinking we know better than the One who designed it all. It’s arrogance. Plain and simple.”

Zara: (softly, almost to herself)

“And stupidity.”

George: (shaking his head, looking frustrated but thoughtful)

“But how do you even begin to change that? The world is built on these systems, this chaos. It feels impossible to unravel.”

Kadija: (standing, her voice firm but compassionate)

“It starts with one choice — one person deciding to live in truth. To stop lying, stop overstepping, and start respecting life for what it is: a gift. The air we breathe isn’t ours — it’s borrowed. The ground we walk on doesn’t belong to us. Live like you understand that, and everything else will follow.”

Zara: (smiling faintly)

“It’s not about fixing the whole world. Just your corner of it. That’s enough.”

George: (quietly, almost whispering)

“I never thought of it like that.”

Kadija: (turning to him, her expression softening)

“Now you have. What you do with it is up to you.”

The three sit in silence, the weight of the conversation settling into the room like a quiet revelation. Outside, the sunlight glows brighter, as if the truth itself is shining through.