we're trying to figure out life. we use images and words and sounds and colors and no color and everyone has their favorite method of doing it. we get morally outraged and hypocritical. we take pictures of ourselves in every position with every object in every style of clothing we can think of. then we take off the clothing piece by piece until we're naked in every position imaginable.
then we put little captions on all the photos hoping that the less we say the more it means because if we believed we had to say more we know we'd never stop talking.
all these things we do, the farming the industry the academia, we do in search of truth. and then some of us figure this out. we figure out that all we're doing is searching for truth. then we feel as if somehow our searches for proof are more legitimate because we're aware of it then those who are not thinking of it in this way. and maybe that's true. but the pride that comes with that belief if find distasteful in a way that makes me want to tear it down.
we're searching and prideful
there are those of us who believe with heart and soul that truth is encapsulated in a compilation of texts that has been handed down for thousands of years. memorized and reworded and prayed and cried. there are those who hold to this. then there are those who think it could be anything but that so they search other texts and other words of other folks that they consider more meaningful and when asked why theirs is more legitimate reply "why is yours?" and so begin a cyclical fight that will never end.
there are those who think the truth is to fight.
and those who think the exact opposite.
there are those who get so frustrated that they say truth is only meaning that we choose for ourselves, and those who get so frustrated that they say none of it has meaning no matter what they think. there are those that are fulfilled by incomplete answers and others with questions.
we're frustrated and searching and prideful
then we lose respect for each other when we find out if they're one of those whose truth ideologies are that which we find distasteful.
we're frustrated and searching and disrespectful and prideful and naked.
then someone says its all about how you feel and no one can decide how feeling is, if its all chemical or if there is a soul behind it and so they drink and smoke and huff and hope that if by playing with one they'll find answers to the other.
its become "its all good" or "nothing is good" and politically incorrect to be anywhere in between.
we're frustrated and searching and prideful and naked and insane.
so how could i possibly explain that i've figured it out? that now to me your work is worthless and your hearts are priceless. how could i explain that as it turns out those sacred texts discredited by so many are more accurate than your fashion pictures and music tracks and arguing?
all i can do is live this out in hopes that others will see that the truth is real and it lives in me. that the truth is not what is seen or what is known but what is done when you don't know anything.