truth is a fire
truth is a purifier, that burns and singes in its efforts to expunge the rot, grasping with tendrils that can not be pinned down. truth fans itself, or cools and remians as just embers until someone opens the door and lets in more fuel. truth can raze a city, or heal a child. ive been wanting to livejournal something for past week. too busy, or whatnot to bother. till now at least. and i wanted to talk of truth, and then just lat nite me and jon had a lovely discussion on this very subject while drinking at lauwen's baw. the inability to pin down truth. the total lack of objectivity ever, but then that means that nothing subjective ever. a cat that sneak attacks. a blond russian with a white wig, that calls itself black. dont you want to watch your own personal truth seal you away, lock you in the crypt of your mind and play the old home movies so that we can eat popcorn and laugh at the silly assumptions made from earliest memories onward? think of the possibilites laced within memory for truth. causeways and byways of information rushing alongside until some crash, most just get scratchs and bump benders, and a few hijacking others, but still some making it safe to your consciousness where they can be released. fuck the analogy. analogies are for those who can not apply the real situation. i still find it very interesting that the greek word for to feel is the same as to suffer. early indo-euro roots sharing the same depressing yet hopeful idea of oblivion?