Thoughts On The Nature Of Truth

10.27.08

Truth is a wounded battalion of words, immortal under the silent mysteries of the sun, unknown if its theories are recognized by the forces of the universe. We embrace them nonetheless, we are so bold, we are so brazen. Humanities brief performance on the stage of eternity has produced some great acts indeed. Why we exist at all is a mystery in which the keys dangle far out of reach. The secrets are all locked somewhere far away in a tantalizing void. All we can do in our state of constant misunderstanding is determine our outcomes by the roll of dice or the drop of a head. The order of this eternity has us firmly in its grasp, the more we kick and scream the harder it will grab. We build our world through the vision of what those invisible forces have endowed us with. We embrace them with freedom of doubt for to exist in freedom, to color the darkness of primal birth in a flourish of palettes, is truly what it means to be human. That is an idea we must all never lose sight of, for it is the only vision that is truly a denizen of our own conscious creation.