Hollow

Our greatest pretenses are built up not to hide the evil and the ugly in us, but our emptiness. The hardest thing to hide is something that is not there. ~Eric Hoffer, Passionate State of Mind, 1955

Somehow, the kids’ father could always come up with an explanation of everything that was going on. Perhaps it’s the truth; perhaps it’s just an excuse; perhaps it’s a white lie; perhaps; perhaps; perhaps…

Demanding to know the truth had once been of importance to me. But now, my motto has taken on the turn of just receiving his explanation and getting on with my life. I’d rather spend my energy on my kids than on deciphering what is the truth and what is not of all that he’s said. Somehow, it just isn’t that important anymore.

“Believe? Just take it as a plaster, cover the wound and move on, who cares whether the plaster is real or not.”

Someone who could read me better than myself painted the interesting picture above.

“You will be the brightest gem in heaven next time; all these sandpaper polishing you now on earth.”

That was a great piece of encouragement from my soul mate.

I wouldn’t even dare to dream of it. The only hope I have is that whatever deeds I’m doing now will be able to cover the sins that I had committed before and even presently and in future.

“If I ever get brain cancer in future, you’d know the cause,” I joked.

“You will never get brain cancer. Inside your brain is too hollow. That’s why you are always staring into empty spaces.”

Darn. Should I take that as a compliment?