Without remorse

It is easy to lie to myself. blindly and repeatedly till i believe the lie, till lines of distinction between the two are no longer discernable. till that last little prick of conscience fades from recognition
i never realized that the hardest thing was to be completely honest with mysellf. and to have the capacity to see what things really are.
once this part is done i see it is fairly easy to be honest with everybody else, easier to lie too. but then again the lines will fade if i am not careful.
this forces me to realize small lies i see in others, in others i like. lies i am willing to accept, to forgive, because those faded lines i see there are so familiar. yet, do i call them out. do i not. what when another lie comes my way.
i hope those lies is only to me. and not to their own heart.

what do i do with those lies that are important to others. lies that are deep, lies that may have been truths once. do i call them out. do i not. is it worse now that i realise they were lies anyway. simple lies that will need more lies to make them stay.