Arsène Hodali

web novels, poetry, prose.

  • War Dancers
  • poetry
  • prose

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Speaking The Truth Is Hard

Speaking the truth with a capital T is difficult. Because The truth is both our magnum opus and an earthquake.

By this I mean that most of us have only one truth to clearly speak of and it will take years of flapping our gums and therapy before we ever stumble upon it correctly, if we ever do at all. When we do, when we’re lucky enough to do, skilled enough to fall gracefully (enough to accept pain as process), and healed enough to pay close attention, we will recognize it both instantly and after the fact because our pupils will dilate so quickly we will feel them and because for some strange reason whenever we speak it, of it, the air shakes, the ground shakes, people cling to themselves, to one another, to something, anything, and then, when we’re done speaking, we are kindly told never to do that again. At least, not without a lot of bells and whistles.

To use New York as (another) metaphor, The truth isn’t the street performer we’re rushing to get a glimpse of, but the sleeping homeless man we all stumble upon right before we pick ourselves up and hurry on as if nothing’s happened.

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