We want truth to be...
broken into bite-sized chunks
We want to own truth. We want to give truth, or at least share it. We want to tell truth, receive truth, believe truth. We try to find it like it's lost.
Truth does not belong to anyone.
Truth does not lend itself out.
Truth does not hold its shape to be passed around.
If anyone promises you the truth, they are already a liar, by accident or design.
Truth may be glimpsed in moments, pieces, through lenses. It shimmers and moves, surrounds and encompasses, abandons and crushes, soothes and burns. Like a phantom, truth dissipates out of our senses as soon as we notice it.
Touching on truth is like tapping your finger on still water - it disrupts the illusion of solidity. Claiming truth is like predicting the weather without instruments. Naming truth names only our experience of its wake.
Truth evades capture. It belongs to no one. We belong to it.