Here is an excerpt from an unpublished short story I wrote about my experiences with faith. This happened when I was nine years old.
You see, I’m having difficulty not bringing up what’s happening in society. I feel as if it’s crumbling around us. I’m not supposed to have an opinion about it either, otherwise I could be ousted from society.
Where did truth go? Is it hiding beneath the dirt, buried by those who fear it? If so, how do I dig it out? If I find where it’s buried, will the forces-that-be do something to stop me before I can expose the lie? Will they tarnish the messenger so that no one will believe the message? Does that mean I should fear telling the truth because of what liars might do or say about me?
Relative…it’s what I’m told that truth is. Perhaps it’s relative in accordance to what we believe. I would argue that if we look to simplicity, there is no relevance.
Be prepared, as I am going to describe from my perspective (in brief) the good, the bad and the ugly of truth.