The truth to being human is out there, apparently.
In actuality, the truth to being human is in here. In the mind, that is, not in the computer or other device these words are appearing on. And, for truth to be told, words are just words. Sometimes, they are numbers, but usually words.
When used together words (and numbers) can have a major manipulative affect on the truth. I read today that repetition makes things seem true, when they actually aren’t. I’ll repeat: repetition makes things seem true. Seem.
Articles which are repeated may or may not be true, but as they seem true can have parts taken from them and added to other repeated articles, seamlessly expanding the article into another variation of the truth, which, once again, because it’s been repeated seems true.
It must be true, because we’ve read it before, right?
I’ve read a lot of slightly different similar stuff lately. I’ve started venturing down the odd rabbit hole or two, back to the very beginning of where the truth came from. I burrowed through tunnels and leapt into different branches following different shoots and pathways, and then, when I reached a dead end, I stopped. As you do at a dead end. I thought: why am I in this rabbit hole? I’m not a rabbit, I’m human.
Or so I’m told.
I had intended for this to be a Thomasina (my Inner Woman) post, but for some reason Fingers (my Inner Typist, who’s been practicing by the looks of things!) took me elsewhere! Although this means one thing… my Inner Beings are stirring once again!