I find it strange to write in metaphors of my own making. And yet, that is all that I’ve ever done without realization until I looked at my posts today and saw the façade of my own words. But to the unwary I find that I must guise it lest jealousy spurns malice to conspire and stain my thoughts. We are all obligated to hold on to our portions of the truth and that obligation stretches to the point of its safekeeping. No matter how small, how minute, it is nonetheless, a part of a grander design. So indulge my wariness to reduce the role of malice further still through encrypting my thoughts with metaphors. There are those that are to be read I agree. There are also those that are to be deciphered. And still, there are those that are not meant to be put into words.
Although I can articulate my thoughts clearly enough, how exactly do I articulate something that is beyond my, or beyond man’s for that matter, design? How do I call something that has no name with which to uniquely identify it? I can use words, yes. Words that humanity’s collective intellect instructs me is similar but I know that that word is lacking still in its entirety. I can but paint a verbal impression of a truth that is known without words, a “perhaps but not quite”, a caricature that is in its absolute insufficient to give word to that which is known without words. Man can after all, only stare at the sun.
And if I can mask what it is exactly that I want to say, it goes without saying that you can do so as well. As clever or as poor, it does not matter. A mask is still a mask. But in all your pondering, in all your musings, never will you come to know what I speak of in any other light than what you will yourself to know or not know. Tainted love or not, these eyes are not your eyes. No. They will never be the color that your arid eyes are. If your eyes decide to see a love tainted, I refuse to kneel before such a sight. If that your truth, as you see it, as you know it and as you love it then I’d embrace my 'lies' instead. Pardon me, if I think of myself as an accomplished exile.