truth is a black hole

Truth in its absolute form is a black hole. It consists of the All, and what All truly is, in its utter entirety. It pulls me in, like a faint magnet, whenever words become nothing but sounds. Like music. Music which plays over a void of nothingness—a nothingness that is truly All.

We prance around the surface of Truth in ignorance—a willing ignorance, as we are too distracted by our world of noise. We watch the music above the ground so much that we never see that the ground we step on is a black so deep and so empty. A sight devoid of all life and any meaning. I know because I saw it.

Curiosity tripped me, and I accidentally saw it. So I rushed to pick myself back up and continued to walk among those who play their sounds. Among those who dwell within the music of life. Because I am afraid that if I were to fall into the depths of this hole, I might implode and reach lethal and life-ending insanity.

Life is much too valuable for blackness; it must be lived in colorful ignorance instead. Truth is Life’s greatest fear, for if Life met Truth, Life would cease to exist.

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