The indecision of self-trust

i am
starting to learn
that you only have to believe something
to be something

that to believe,
is thus to be

we are unconscious cunning manipulators
of ourselves
and therefore know not if what we apportion to character
was previously,
and sometimes immediately
true.
but-
when we cross that threshold
that holds us so resignedly
so forcefully
to all our qualities;
and add, anew-
well.
who are we to tell ourselves any different
from this freshness?
after all
we are so aware
of ourselves...
aren't we?

Yet-
if we are ever deceived-
then can it be real?
Is it a lie?
Happy, or sad,
such changings can exist as both.
It would be nice to think it so
It would be nice
to believe