I find I am still prone to bs, to lie, if you want to be harsh about it. I don’t know how to get around it, wonder whether even saints can be absolutely honest all the time. I make up stories. I have been making up stories since I was quite young; perhaps 12 years old or so. And I wonder, could I tap this for a good cause? Is there some bs in me that I might use creatively, or does my mind only really get going in this vein when I am pressed in real life, when I might get some immediate, substantive benefit for it? I know I have not tapped into it like that as of yet, for I have written short stories, but not even the best one matches the characterization, the plot, the thematic genius of some of my lies. Or… hm. Maybe my memory exaggerates, and they’re not so great either, my bs stories — it’s just that they have worked so many times, given me many conveniences…. (I am made to wonder how well Dostoevsky could lie. Or Shakespeare. I bet they told doozies.)