Ben Kimberley

See

"I see" I said. I didn't. As per the human condition, what I meant, I withheld. My response contained within it a cryptic platitude that foretold all the faux-mercies that the soul hungers for, yet despises. What is truth? Do we truthfully want it? If we all genuflected in reverence to that which is definitive and indisputable, could we carry on the charade that paints itself as life? Society and culture link hands in a ring-a-ring o' roses that plagues us, giving way to a false sense of insecurity that is painted before our eyes by a brush that doesn't exist.