Epiphanies

The truth hurts. I don’t know how many times I have heard that expression in my sixteen years, but it is eerily correct. Ever since I was a child, my parents tried to hide things from me that they thought wasn’t something that should be told to me. Santa, my parent’s smoking habit, and other childhood fantasies that would prove to be false. When I learnt the truth of these things, I was heart broken. The jolly old man who climbs down your chimney to give you presents isn’t real, the disgusting habit my parents tried to keep me away from was their habit as well, these things that I thought were never possible were a reality that I was unable to cope with at the time. I wish that I could go back in time and re live my childhood innocence and my childhood fantasies that were stolen from me. As we get older, the truth is told to us more often, it may be for the best, but it sure is annoying and it can hurt. Sometimes I want people to tell me the truth, but when they speak it, it strikes to the core. Which one is better? Lies, or truth? I think that that answer is deep within each of us.

This is something that all of us knows, but rarely think about it. One day we will cease to exist or in other words, die. We are all bound by this contract, it is a fact of life that we cannot escape. I try not to think about it, and I know many people don’t think about it, but what actually happens when you die? When will we die? I honestly don’t know, it could be tomorrow, and it could be in seventy years, but it is a reality that we all have to live with. We must live with death, there’s an oxy moron for you. Even as I write this, I try not to think about it, because if we fear death, then what is there to live for? We must keep it in the back of our minds, and learn how to live with the phantom of death living in our shadows. No one knows what happens after we die, only the