Braille

Have you ever noticed, in the quiet drains of reflection, how we end up believing in our thoughts more than our realities? How as days cascade through time, as words and actions tumble out, we tend to twist the walls of stark truth and dance with fancy distortions. We influence, we convey, we partake in ourselves. We spin elaborate background stories, we quip nimble ideas and supporting notions until somehow we end up justifying them as verity. Our convictions are then fortified, they are crowned above the logic of life.

And so upon this chance, how do you muster up the courage to open up to the truth?