The Truth: Neither Beautiful nor Ugly (But Honestly A Little Concerned With How Caught Up With Looks We All Are)

The Truth has been described, declared, defended, degraded, defamed and detailed in many ways over the course of human history, yet one thing is certain: the Truth is in no way affected by how human beings define it. It is already the Truth.

The Truth is not apologetic; especially by the mere fact that it exists. Nor is it deterred when it is snubbed. Public opinion and compulsory polling means nothing to this often elusive force. It has no preoccupation about your race, class, creed, genitalia, pension, or perversion. Those are all your issues as far as the Truth is concerned.

The Truth cannot be abridged or rushed but it sure as hell can make you go at any pace it damn well pleases. The Truth expects you to keep up.

The Truth cannot be destroyed, obliterated, demolished, drowned or decimated- but it can walk on water, reincarnate and come back to life. In fact, the Truth is Resurrection.

The Truth cannot be watered down, blown-up, by-passed, or filtered through. It excels at being swallowed and absorbed; changing one from within and becoming a part of the consumer as much as the belly or breath.

The Truth can be massacred in the most horrifically imaginable ways, but again (to much of the dismay of the maniac) it will reanimate. It is Resurrection. And remember maniacs, it will have learned during its death a thing or two about the enemy’s tactics and will be reborn again and again and again with greater strength to defeat each and every simple d’esprit foe. Truth and death go way back… like further than clansmen or college roommates. So in other words, the Truth does not fear death; but it knows you do.

The Truth does not fear time either. Rather, it is refined and revered by it. Truth ages well. It sees wrinkles and hunched postures as beautiful testimonies of its mercy. It finds the worship of youth extremely tacky.

The Truth is not necessarily beautiful or ugly. The Truth can take any form it wishes. But in all honesty, the Truth is a little concerned with how caught up with appearances we all seem to be.

And Truth cannot be pigeon-holed by space; it is a master of dimensionality and the engineer of creation itself. It finds our exploration and explanations of these matters cute (most often).

Truth is the most skilled of all lovers, despite many blaming their misconceptions and denials of the heart on it! They are, of course, mistaken. It is not the Truth’s fault we are messy, uptight and fickle creatures. The Truth finds this to be an odd combination for a species, yet undeniably enchanting too.

Truth is incompatible with what most choose to see, feel, and touch. The Truth cannot be changed- it can only change you.

The Truth does not worry, although it does experience twinges of pity for those who neglect, persecute and attempt to control it. The Truth’s heart is so big yours would burst into flames if you could fathom it for even the briefest of moments. But you would die happy. But the Truth doesn’t want you dead… It loves you and knows you are capable of so, so much.

The Truth is not tolerant (although far too many still mistake its kindness for weakness). It demands you succumb or be destroyed (subtly). And again, it does not wish this for you. It is but its nature. It has trampled over more carcasses of ego-surrendered flesh throughout history than you or I could ever dare stomach.

Truth is the ultimate survivor. The Truth expects nothing of us other than to seek it, acknowledge it, and endlessly pursue and defend it with our very lives. Perhaps expect is not the right word. The Truth expects nothing. The Truth just knows that without this adherence, mankind will squander everything that is good and pure and unlike the Truth, we cannot survive this. You wouldn’t want to survive that.

If you truly know love, you truly love Truth. If you do not, the Truth will not spare your ignorance or betrayal. The Truth attends every funeral; it is up to you if it weeps or not.

If you kill the Truth it will haunt you. If you sabotage it, it will go back in time to avenge your ancestors so that one day, you will sabotage the Truth. This is humorous for the truth. The Truth loves to laugh. It is a comic’s comforter because the Truth knows how absurd it can be. The Truth is not bothered by contradiction. This, again, is our problem. The Truth knows what it is, and is unashamed.

The Truth will set you free, but beware. Loneliness cannot be cured by the freedom its companionship ensures. Until more of us learn and practice trusting, cherishing and fighting for Truth, one may find freedom a solitary sentence in a land that is quickly becoming emboldened by the ideology of prisoners. That is the Truth.

But take heart! The Truth is not hopeful- But hope is always truthful.



Life is a Stage; Get an Acting Coach


“All the world’s a stage, And all the men and women merely players; They have their exits and their entrances, And one man in his time plays many parts…”



At this juncture, it seems that the clouds and stars and birds and trees and wind and sea are all murmuring the same thing:

Play your part….


Occasionally you’ll catch a “…better… or else…!” 

If the tide is too unseasonably low

And the beauty of that present presence isn’t caught Up

all at once,

in the bat of a lash,

sparkling with indignation through and through,

Before it breaks into

gentle laughter,


reminder of



Then a long sigh

floats aside our

ego savior-



How long before our parts are played with the beauty and precision

for which they were written 2 dare?


When exactly will we accept the magnificence of these roles,

scripts, parts; all already cast,

already ours? 

Though perhaps our delivery is languid

in the turbulence of something so

allegedly far.





And what are we to make of the Director’s Cut of our tele-Vive

that makes us weep for all the assassinations

the television war has made us grieve.


If life is a grand show

that inevitably has the curtains shut,

Wouldn’t it make sense

to watch the Director’s Cut?


I, this mysterious Brilliance, in charge of every last detail


Says your line is as follows:

“Fret not my dear, your script reads ‘Prevail’ ”


So seek out your coach once the play itself has been studied absolutely true,

For eternal are His precepts,

Though only She acts as if they were




So as you read your lines, watch to see,

why is  your role {if at all] lacking in dimension?



In utter originality?


Like any true artist knows it is in the love of the craft

that ultimately renders the villain’s role

indubitably daft.


So rest not in their pension of blood and disarray so concord,

4 it is in the destiny of our drama and performance

that will eventually move us Upward.