I love the beauty of interpretation.

If I don’t tell, I’m not lying.

If I tell a half-truth, I’m not lying.

If I don’t know, it doesn’t matter.

I love how the mind wonders.

If I don’t know there’s probably something.

If I don’t hear anything there’s probably something.

If I hear something there’s probably something else.

But then again when does it end.

Perhaps in the perfect world filled with perfect people doing perfectly wholesome deeds with perfectly innocent intentions.

But the world’s not perfect, with perfect people doing perfectly wholesome deeds with perfectly innocent intentions.