truth - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing
Only by looking at an object from many perspectives do you see its exact shape and dimensions, and truth is the same; which is why only a multidisciplinary approach by the high level generalists will find it. For it is the harmonising of these facts from apparently unrelated areas that is the eureka moment, the finding of truth.
Does the truth imprison us, or does it set us free? One thing we know for sure, the truth can hurt. Ask a drug or alcohol addict who has faced friends and professionals in an intervention. The addict arrives home, or at work to discover a room full of people well known to him. The addict takes one look around, and he knows what has happened. One person takes the lead, and then it is on, if the addict does leave in a fury. Even then, he/she has had a head on collision with the truth. The truth is the addict is ruining his life, and the lives of those in his family. The addict is faced with a mirror of himself, and of the love and concern of these others. Hopefully, he will see the truth in their eyes and words. Some do hear and turn their lives around. Facing the truth about our negative sides is a difficult thing to do. However, none of us can improve without knowing the truth, even when it hurts. If we learn, the truth really does set us free.
Now envelope number three. It says her mother is a bitter woman and a sociopath. Why do you think Dakota had such a poor childhood? I told you Dakota helped other kids and was kind. Sociopaths don’t do that. Her ex wasn’t a drug addict and Dakota does not have AIDS. Even if she did though, would that mean she should die screaming on the grass in the rain, bleeding out as her baby dies in her belly? Dakota did have some mental instability, and after that childhood who could blame her? But she had found help with a new Bible study group, mostly male, mostly gay, that had taken it upon themselves to help her. She never told them about the lack of health insurance because she thought she was still covered by her old employer. She was trying to dial them from the hospital but was getting voice mail. If she makes it the baby will have about six daddies who will help him and Dakota. They’ll have a great life, movie nights, popcorn, love and laughter. I do hope you took the money over, but since you don’t seem to be able to talk to me I guess I’ll never know. You did remember what I said about money not being real, didn't you? Down at the bank they just type in digits and it exists, like magic! Hmm, the window is dark again, we must be going back to my street now.
Right, either Dakota is alive or dead, only you know the answer to that right now. Hang on, there are three new envelopes marked one, two and three. Very odd. Let’s open them. The first says her landlord is a crotchety old man. She is a month behind on her rent, but we don’t kill people for that, right? The powder outside her door is white flour, she bakes a lot of her own bread so that the baby doesn’t get the preservatives through the placenta. She often has some flour left on trays or in bowls and she thinks it will make a mess if she tips it into the trash. Seems fair enough. You did save her, didn’t you?
Anyway, envelope number two. The ex-boyfriend is bitter. He was abusive to her on multiple occasions, mostly verbal, but he did strike her also. He cheated on her and hence accuses her of the same, though she did not. The boyfriend offered no proof and even if she had, we don’t condemn people for poor choices of sexual partners, right? She could have a thousand lovers and it wouldn’t make her less worthy as a human being. She didn’t quit her job, the boss made an advance on her and she rejected him, she was fired the next morning. Poor Dakota, she’s had a rough time. I did tell you that she was a great kid, I do hope you saved her...
I never expected his words to hurt me so much, it feels like a thousand knives just pierced through my heart. I can feel the hot tears already welling up in my eyes. I look at him and I can tell he regrets every word he said, but we both know his words are the truth. Even if we want to deny them and fight about them, in the end they are still true.
Truth can be a strange notion, for it always relies on perspective. Can the two ever be separated? I believe the only pure form to be love, for that is a truth that brings us to the same understanding.
For truth drill down into your soul, find that lake of pure water that will wash you clean should you truly desire it. Learn who you really are, who you were born to be, and you will be set free. You were born to love, your soul is pure. If religion hurts, you can still find faith. You are free to choose the healthiest route for yourself; you can "Use the force, young Skywalker" or go more "traditional," what does it matter? Just know you are good inside.
It is a war zone between the pure truth and twisted lies. That’s the interrogation room at 18th precinct. The perps hide the truth skillfully. Oh, it’s well protected, except in the case of druggies. The savvy bad guy concocts a maze of lies to stand guard over his secrets. The truth is one unchangeable reality. However, on
the dark side, lies and deceptions require more lies and deceptions. It’s like
the liar is a clown juggler keeping deception in the air. To maintain momentum , he has to add lies to the others continually. Often a truth falls out as he juggles multiple lies. One pops out, and starts a chain reaction that can collapse the whole juggling act. A small truth lights the room. It could be a forgotten cell phone call, a statement from a family member, a partial fingerprint. These are crumbs of reality can lead us up the trail to full truth. When that happens, truth floods the darkness until truth wins the battle in our war zone, the interrogation room in the 18th precinct.
"Leonora, in your age the truths are a fiction, and so I have buried the truth in the fiction. Very neat, I think you'll find. Happy hunting."