Fault Lines

I know them, the ones who turn away. They would rather bond themselves to ‘anotherhood’ rather than to brotherhood. Nonetheless, I cannot judge them. Sacrifice is painful and what man willingly chooses isolation and estrangement over companionship and acceptance? Yet what is to be said of a companionship based upon the fear of its opposite? Or of an acceptance based on not? What is available for judgement, however, is the strength of their self-deceit.

The weaker their faith, the stronger their belief and they believe in oh so much…

What is honesty if not patience? The best of liars are the unquestioned masters of truth. They work with truth, never against it. They mould themselves by what is on offer, the core never changing and visible too, to those with time on their side. Those caught by the need for belief to be believable struggle, their entirety, against the fact of deceit. This fact evades them as they too, evade it. Unable to persist in unknowing, they rush to secure victory.

Deceit is the fact of life, birthed within truth.