On Veritas

Truth is elusive. But the hunt is more than worth the effort.

We all know that truth is relative, and that in the search for it, each man may find a different object that signifies what is eternally correct to him. I have been on this search but a few years, and I have yet to come to a final understanding upon what the truth is to me. It has many shades, but they are all of gray, subject to examination. Neither white nor black has been seen. The closest thing I have found is the art of the written word. It may not be finite, but the words and the works of written art are too, subject to evaluation. In the end, I would rather leave the question of meaning open to each individual reader. I have to be aware of my audience, but not so aware that it stifles the pursuit of truth. If I come off as irreverent, it is only because I can find no reverence for the subject, be it something as deep and powerful as the aftermath of the Holocaust, or something as trivial as the disposal of used socks in Mesopotamian culture. My tone, truthfully, is irrelevant, as I feel the same contempt for most subjects presented in the world. I am dissatisfied. I long for some change, but the degree is the driving force. My drive for the change is best evaluated by the passion I write with.