Tag Archives: truth

I’m Not Done v.1

The Valley

Isn’t a place

You know

 

It’s a

State

Of being

 

An

Awareness

 

The Darkness

Isn’t awaiting

The chance

To attack

 

Darkness

Lives inside

Me

 

In

You

In

All

In

Us

 

 

By Daphne Shadows

 

Kinda in reference to this Valley 

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Demons Within

“When there is no enemy within, the enemies outside cannot hurt you.”

  • African Proverb

 

Do you know yourself?

Are you aware of yourself?

Do you know what you want, really? What you dream of, what you fear, what you desire, what you do not like…

Do you notice yourself?

Or do you go along with everyone and everything going on outside of you?

 

Know Thyself.

It’s the only way to find the truth of this proverb.

 

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#NationalHaikuPoetryDay Also

 

Truly, I don’t think

We are ever completely

Certainly, ready

 

By Daphne Shadows

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Arrogance

Arrogance frightens me. Not the arrogance of others. The idea that one day I could become arrogant. What horrid atrocities would that wreak in my life? Which disgusting tributes to pride would I commit? I don’t want to know.

 

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Something Invisible

What is invisible?

 

You can’t touch love or misery.

But.

You can see your lover’s eyes light up when you come home. You can see the suffering in a child’s eyes when they huddle in the shadows in the streets.

So, yes, you can see love and misery.

 

So again, what’s invisible?

Hope?

You can see that too.

 

Truth?

Can you see truth?

You can see when someone’s lying…

So doesn’t it follow that you can see when someone is telling the truth?

I think so, yes.

 

What about ghosts?

If we’re going with the ghost theory, then for that theory to exist, that means we believe ghosts are real. Then that means we believe the spirit of a person exists, which, if you were another dead person (spirit) you could see other dead people.

Nope. Not invisible.

 

What is there that science cannot quantify, cannot see on a screen once it’s MRIed it, CAT scanned it, or otherwise broken down and visible under a microscope?

What is there that we cannot, as people, see?

Yes, you can see emotion.

Yes, you can see ideals.

I mean, technically, at least. At the end of it all, you can see these things.

We can’t see gravity but we can see it work. We know it is gravity. It’s visible.

What is left?

What is invisible?

 

Time.

I thought I had it with this one.

Okay, so actually this one wasn’t my idea. But regardless.

This doesn’t work either.

We can see time passing.

We see the effects of time.

 

Nothing is invisible.

Not even our secrets.

 

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This is post #4 in Rara’s #Somethingist challenge. For my original post (which explains things), click here. And then join the challenge!

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Something True

Truth?

My dog’s big brown eyes staring up at me as I tell him I love him.

 

Truth is getting lost in a song I can feel.

 

Stories are true.

Stories are truth even if they’re wrapped up in some lies.

Make believe. Fairy tales for the soul. Grotesque and painful but beautiful and pure. Painful dredges through the muck so you can build a home and lay on the living room floor like a child again, safe, comfortable, content, and happy to just be there.

Truth is the stories we tell.

The stories we get lost in. The stories we survive inside.

The ones that break us. The ones that build us.

The ones that allow us to find the ugliness behind the bright lights. The beauty in the deepest holes filled with the heaviest atmosphere.

 

Truth is getting lost and finding yourself.

 

Truth is truth.

It can be hidden, denied, disguised, discarded.

But truth can never be broken.

 

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This is post #3 in Rara’s #Somethingist challenge. For my original post (which explains things), click here. And then join the challenge!

 

 

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The Abyss. The Masquerade.

Do you ever get stuck?

Come up against wall after wall, again and again and again. Until you finally just say screw it?
Do you ever wonder why you’re holding so tightly? Then wonder what it is exactly that you’re holding to?
Do you ever just get tired?
Tired of all the petty, childish, selfish drama of others.
Tired of the same no good, same.
Tired of the pain.
Of the knowing and the incapability to do anything about it.
The correspondence between misery and choice is breath to my lungs.
But I’m still not breathing.
Sometimes the silence is the only thing that keeps me alive.
What do I have but this noise masquerading as life?
What do I have more than a truth I can do nothing about?
What is there but this sadness?
What is there but this madness?
How do I crawl out of the abyss when all I’ve ever known is to suffer? To flounder in the denial.

 

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