Rambles: Why the lies?

OK I’m sick of this. Is this really happening? Why are people constantly so complicated? Why is our love for one another surrounded in so much anger? I can’t answer these questions, and that really frustrates me.
It must be human nature for us to constantly hurt each other, especially those we are closest to.
Lies are bad. Who the hell invented lying? What’s that all about?
I watched ‘The Invention of Lying’ tonight, very good film, and interesting concept. Sometimes I wish everyone did speak the truth. Imagine never lying, it makes you realise how much you lie yourself. I’ll give an example: you are walking into your office at work and the cleaner is always there when you get there because you insist on getting to work ridiculously early (this is me I am talking about by the way). So anyway you see the cleaner on the way into the office, she’s a lovely lady and always flashes a big grin at you. She is very petite with ginger hair and her face is covered in freckles. Her face and general manner is so welcoming. She says “hi”, and asks you how you are. There are 2 things I always think at this stage: 1) Does she really care how I am or is she just making conversation? and 2) would she appreciate me actually telling her how I am? I could go on to tell her that actually I’m knackered. I’ve been worried that I’m not good enough for my job practically since the day I started (self esteem issues), me and my husband had been trying for a baby for a year but had to stop due to some medication he was on and are now about to start trying again, and I can’t bear to go through the hell of all those tests again. I’m working from 7:45 most mornings, and occasionally staying late. My foot/ankle has been killing me for at least 5 weeks now, and I’ve dosed up on husbands pain killers to numb the pain but they have made me extremely dizzy. I’ve got no money, and debt up to the eye balls. Despite the fact I’ve been living in Nottingham for nearly 6 years I still don't have anyone I can call a best friend (other than Mike). I could go on, but I really don't think the cleaner wants to know. So instead it goes like this: I walk into the office, cleaner asks me how I am and I say “OK thanks, you?”, to which she replies “yep, I’m OK”. Is she OK? Do I care?
This is what we constantly do, we brush things under the carpet, I’m not saying we all have to be quite as extreme as in the film, and tell people we think they are ugly losers, but we should be a bit more honest, surely?

My eyes are trying to force themselves shut, but I’ve got a point to prove. There is no freedom of speech, we are all scared of each other.
Another way to think about it is this. I spent some of my afternoon today at a day centre, with mainly elderly people (some younger) all with profound physical or sensory disabilities. The chances are really stacked against us all. We are not getting any younger, one of us will get COPD, one of us maybe heart failure, another might fracture a leg and never really recover, one of us might get dementia or Parkinson's - or both.
I was there promoting gadgets to keep them independent at home.

How many of us are ever really independent? We rely on peoples opinions too much to be truly independent. Are we happy with how we are? What should we change or have done? Why cant we just be happy and thankful and honest?
I’m not saying I’m this angel by the way, I do lie too and this isn't a therapy session for me to get everything off my chest (although it has helped). My parents never did anything wrong, and I had a great childhood. There’s never been a defining moment in my life where I realised who I am. I just want to stop wasting time. I want everyone to stop wasting time. Procrastination is pointless, yet we spend years doing it.
The moral of this little story, or rant, for want of a better word is stop lying to everyone you love in a bid to protect them. Be honest. Make the most of your life. And get the hell on with it. When I bring my future children into this world, I’ll be happy if they remember to do those things.

Ramble over..