Let me be completely honest. No truth dodging, no slight passing, no faux presenting, no charade showing, no facade propping, no lie bolstering, just truth. Pure. Distilled. Unadulterated. Crude. Truth.
I got truths. Too many to say. I've got truths stacked up in the back paddock. Up against the shed. Leaning against other truths. Some of them broken under the weight of others. Cracking and breaking. Bits from one laying with bits from another. None whole. None complete. All pieces. An entire cupboard of broken crockery. If you look at the stacks with the sun behind them, at just the right angle, at about 5:30 in the afternoon, or morning, they all start to kind of blur together. They're boundaries all kind of get a little less tangiable. On a hot day, on a really hot day, sometimes, they melt into each other unevenly. One piece of a truth starts the blend in with another piece of truth, and they both sink into the middle of another. Its a mess. Those truths are useless. They aren't even truths anymore.