Naked Truth.

Empty countryside road through fields with wheat - stock photo

The truth is not what most people want despite their protests.
What I find , is that most people want a watered down truth that fits within their own scope of ideas and beliefs.
Truth is hard, unrelenting, and not what most people imagine. It doesn’t care if you believe what it shows you or not; it has no sympathy.
It breaks up long-held beliefs, no matter how much you have cherished them. It doesn’t care how much attached to them you are.
Truth is not a sentimentalist; it sees nothing through rose-colored glasses. It doesn’t care how much it hurts when it shatters your illusions.
Truth is not a motivator it is simply what it is. If you are motivated to change, that is great, if not, well the truth will still be the truth.
Most of us paint pretty pictures for ourselves and call that the truth. If truth is insulted you won’t hear it complain, it doesn’t hang around in fantasy worlds.
It is stark, naked, and often ugly, but if we let it, truth will change us into more resilient humans that are not so easily fooled and can face any storm.


When I Learned the Truth.

You ever have a song that you identified strongly with in your youth? The song you played over and over again, shut up alone in your bedroom, the one you cried about?  I have been thinking about that song lately and how much I identified with the lyrics, sad as they were.  Chubby, painfully shy, and unpopular the song below somewhat describes when I became aware, if you will, when:” I learned the truth.”


Today, it all seems so long ago and what once seemed so important and worth having a good cry about is no longer of any importance at all. But, the lyrics could have been written yesterday for all those who feel like “ugly ducklings”.





Tears are Not Enough.


This is dedicated to a friend who lost her daughter a few weeks back.


Autumn tree silhouette in sunset, wind blowing away the falling leaves - stock vector


Tears are not enough when you have to say goodbye.
Your heart is wrung dry of them; so dried-eyed you stare into space.
No matter how they try to comfort you the words ,they all,fall short; you can’t relate.
A muffled noise is all you hear, as the lights swirl around you, an over-powering of the senses.
She’s gone, those words keep playing in your head, but you can’t quite believe it, this is not how it suppose to be.
She was too young, she had too much to live for, she was supposed to live a long full life.
This is not the way it is supposed to be she should have lived to bury you.