… it can make you feel special, cuddled up to you under the covers on a lazy morning, warm and cozy, secure in each other, proud, never betraying, always there. Then it rips off its mask, ruthlessly points out everything you hate about yourself, knows things you swore you never told it, relentless, cruel, terrifying, insane, tearing you apart until you’re a quivering, sobbing, violated mess…
You may be horrified, but it still feels warm and cozy, secure, never betraying, always there. It doesn’t understand your offended responses, still wants to cuddle. It never passes judgment while it rips your heart out, will never leave, even if you kick it out. It’s stupid like that. It’s like water too, if you don’t mind a slippery simile in the mix. It’s always looking for a way in, and will always find one in time. So will my slippery similes… and mixed metaphors…
Truth doesn’t care about ‘wrong’ or ‘right’ or what order you put them in. It just wants to find you, to cuddle. No, you’re a Shmoopy… It never hates you, or wishes you harm. It’s the one hugging you when you don’t want to be touched. It’ll hold you while you cry and struggle not to hug it back. It’s so genuine in its two-faced-ness, you can’t hate it for it. You know it is always right and wants the best for you. It will always protect you with its honesty…
Truth knows it’s about the journey, not about being ‘right’. It wishes you’d get over it and learn something. ‘Being wrong’ only turns into an opportunity to be more precise, eliminate ‘errors’, bond with the truth, enjoy the journey. Truth could have make-up sex in the middle of Times Square and think nothing of it, tap your ass and make lasso too, I’m not just talking to the ladies…
But there’s so much garbage around right now. You got lazy, and truth only wants to whip you back into shape. You threw in the towel, its way too messy now. You’re tired of truth’s ‘nagging’ and always being right. Truth is a jerk like that, but doesn’t know it or understand it...
It has a one-track mind. Information is power, but that’s all it can provide, it can’t touch free-will. It wishes it had the power to help you choose, but it can only lay the guilt trip and cuddle, while you grow tired of its ability to love and hate you at the same time. Truth is the real God, without the vanity, dig? It wishes you’d put down the crack pipe, respect yourself, and stop giving it the silent treatment…
You got so messed up that, now, there is lots of work to do. Once you clean up, you always feel better. Things are easier to take and keep on top of, you know where everything is, the lighting is just right, and the new paint smell is just faint enough to be a welcome addition as you admire your honest work…
Truth isn’t a diet or house refresh either. It takes nothing to maintain but remembering that truth will always protect you with its honesty. You may even get cuddled up again, secure in each other again, proud, ready to take on anything, no betrayal to forgive, just a solid and open, clear and clean slate to work from…
Who loves you, baby?
eace
(FYI - ‘Shmoopy’ is another hacked Seinfeld ref. in case you live under a rock.)
You may be horrified, but it still feels warm and cozy, secure, never betraying, always there. It doesn’t understand your offended responses, still wants to cuddle. It never passes judgment while it rips your heart out, will never leave, even if you kick it out. It’s stupid like that. It’s like water too, if you don’t mind a slippery simile in the mix. It’s always looking for a way in, and will always find one in time. So will my slippery similes… and mixed metaphors…
Truth doesn’t care about ‘wrong’ or ‘right’ or what order you put them in. It just wants to find you, to cuddle. No, you’re a Shmoopy… It never hates you, or wishes you harm. It’s the one hugging you when you don’t want to be touched. It’ll hold you while you cry and struggle not to hug it back. It’s so genuine in its two-faced-ness, you can’t hate it for it. You know it is always right and wants the best for you. It will always protect you with its honesty…
Truth knows it’s about the journey, not about being ‘right’. It wishes you’d get over it and learn something. ‘Being wrong’ only turns into an opportunity to be more precise, eliminate ‘errors’, bond with the truth, enjoy the journey. Truth could have make-up sex in the middle of Times Square and think nothing of it, tap your ass and make lasso too, I’m not just talking to the ladies…
But there’s so much garbage around right now. You got lazy, and truth only wants to whip you back into shape. You threw in the towel, its way too messy now. You’re tired of truth’s ‘nagging’ and always being right. Truth is a jerk like that, but doesn’t know it or understand it...
It has a one-track mind. Information is power, but that’s all it can provide, it can’t touch free-will. It wishes it had the power to help you choose, but it can only lay the guilt trip and cuddle, while you grow tired of its ability to love and hate you at the same time. Truth is the real God, without the vanity, dig? It wishes you’d put down the crack pipe, respect yourself, and stop giving it the silent treatment…
You got so messed up that, now, there is lots of work to do. Once you clean up, you always feel better. Things are easier to take and keep on top of, you know where everything is, the lighting is just right, and the new paint smell is just faint enough to be a welcome addition as you admire your honest work…
Truth isn’t a diet or house refresh either. It takes nothing to maintain but remembering that truth will always protect you with its honesty. You may even get cuddled up again, secure in each other again, proud, ready to take on anything, no betrayal to forgive, just a solid and open, clear and clean slate to work from…
Who loves you, baby?
eace(FYI - ‘Shmoopy’ is another hacked Seinfeld ref. in case you live under a rock.)
