Truth is uncensured when all is said and done.

Under the covers, clothing, excuses and fabrications, there is still a layer of denial.

What of judgement, emotion, fleshy parts we play when we can’t stand it anymore?

We have a lot of pain and suffering to do in this life without the excess brutality, fear, and loathing that accounts for all the problems and mistakes that spice up every life.

At the bottom of all this we peel off layers of ourselves to reveal parts of our past selves:  the me in my 50’s, 40’s, 30’s, 20’s, 10’s, back to the beginning of me.

When I am tired, sick, alone, angry, frustrated, and ready to throw in the towel, there is just enough curiosity left in me to go looking for ‘the truth’.

I am both the proverbial cat and mouse.

I hunt down my pray (the little me or mouse).

I am so curious (cat as the preditor) about who I am.

I am so focused on ‘my truth’ that I am blind to ‘the truth’.

Yet, there it is.  Here I am.  I like to show ‘the truth’.

(The little I see of it.)

(I am only capable of seeing a little ‘truth’.