I think of myself as rather an honest person. That is not to say I do not lie. I will happily misdirect the truth, or agree with a complete fabrication of the truth for honest and dishonest reasons.
I will often smuggle large portions of heartfelt truth by introducing one obvious lie into their midst. The receiver recognises the lie, and thus believes that all of what I have told them is false. I find it useful when you cannot bear to keep the truth to yourself, nor can you bear the consequences of anyone finding out.
Another technique, and a useful one at that, it to tell the absolute and utter truth, with a completely straight face, and then laugh as the receiver begins to believe it. They will assume that the truths are false, and that you have been playing them for a fool. Perhaps ironically, in this situation, they only become the fool when they disbelieve your words.
Lie, you may have realised, can be far too harsh a word for what I usually practise. Yet falsehood sounds altogether far too pretentious. Misdirection is merely a street performer’s code word for their art.
Like many people, I exploit human nature for my own gain, to weave a cocoon of truths around me that no one can see through. However, I have found a way to give my metaphorical cocoon physical existence. Writing.
In all my fictitious works, I place a vein of truth; in every truth, an element of fantasy. As you read, you will slowly find yourself encapsulated by my lies and you might be lucky enough to glimpse a fragment of the real me.