If you walk a pit bull around on a leash, even if it is trained to kill, it’s assumed the canine should go where you lead it since you are its master. But that’s no guarantee it cannot turn on you, sink its teeth into your flesh, and make you regret ever putting that vicious animal in such an open situation.

But this is the way I feel most days about honesty. As a writer, I try to hold myself to a pledge of being honest about how I feel when I put words to a page. If the subject is something I don’t want to talk about, then I will not mention it, rather than lie or distort the truth. But it’s been a staple of my life to embrace a mediocrity in truth, rather than fame in lies.

Nevertheless, no matter how many times I’ve been burned by my own honesty, I continue to work hard towards the creative goals I have set for myself. But in this day and age, I wonder if it is worth it anymore. Has our collective American culture deemed honesty a facade? An illusion that people try to represent but really only use as a mask for their greed for money and power?

I can’t speak for anyone else though. As much as I see dishonesty in so many walks of life, I try to avoid being tempted by it, even if it pays off better than being honest. To a fault, I will keep my words as truthful as I can, no matter what the consequences. I hope you can too. Peace.