For example, I had told Milosh that I was twenty-four, instead of twenty-six. I’d told him that I owned a pair of roller skates, that I have an American passport, and I don’t believe in God. These lies make no sense and make my life more complicated without really making me seem cooler or helping me achieve any of my goals. They are the appendix or the wisdom teeth of the lying world—painful, and totally redundant.
