The weight of truth

What it seems is not what it is. It seems quiet. It seems sober. But only you know the truth. And the truth is often bitter. One is so used to the sweetness of the false state – that you just seem not strong enough to stand the real, raw, piercing taste of truth. You can’t stand it. You can’t bear it. You excuse yourself by stating that you are just not prepared to handle things of such huge consequences. Maybe it’s the fact. Or maybe you are actually trying hard to convince yourself of the frailty of your conscience that stands the risk of forgetting itself – if it is forced to face the truth!

So what do you do?

You run. You run. You run. You run so far from it that at one point you have partially succeeded in convincing yourself that it doesn’t exist. You build up high walls of recent indulgences around yourself. And it gets higher and higher. But seldom do you worry about its strength. Whether it will be able to face the strong winds that the old memories keep throwing at you, once in a while.

“Nobody cares”, you console yourself. After all that’s the only thing you are capable of doing. You sympathize. You tend to position yourself as a victim of this ruthless world. And you hate to put up a fight. Not because you don’t have any guts. It’s because you know that the weight of truth is very difficult to bear. For the sake of yourself and others, you don’t let it out in the open. So you run.

But the running keeps you tired. How far will you go? And how long? You don’t have an answer to such rhetorical questions.

And your life continues to keep you busy. You burden yourself with the ordinary day and the little puzzles it keeps throwing at you. And at times she looks at you. You just stare at her. Not knowing what to do.

The truth keeps staring back at you.

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~ by rb on June 16, 2008.

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