A Horse Named Truth

You feel it, don’t you? That faint vibration at the edges of your senses, the one you’ve been trying to ignore. You’ve been noticing the cracks, haven’t you? The way the world doesn’t quite fit together anymore. The lies that people tell themselves to keep going. The systems that creak and groan under their own weight, threatening to collapse at any moment. You feel it in the way time stretches and bends, in the way every answer now leads to many more questions.

The world is slipping, tilting, unraveling. And the cause? Thoughts. Energy. The very fabric of reality, shaped by the minds of billions who don’t even realize they’re shaping it. Too many people have forgotten that reality isn’t fixed. It’s malleable, alive, responsive. And too many people are letting others dictate what they think, what they feel, what they believe. But you’re not like them, are you? You’ve felt it—the way your thoughts ripple outward, the way your choices echo. You’ve noticed the subtle manipulations, the way fear is sold like a drug, numbing people, manipulating them into submission.

And now, the horse has come. White as frost beneath the pale stars, it bears a name that cannot be turned aside: Truth. It does not come with words to comfort, nor with banners to rally the multitudes. Truth is no herald of peace, nor the savior of the faint-hearted.

It does not lead the charge of revolutions but strikes the spark that sets the world alight. It stands unmoving, silent and steadfast, its eyes deep as the void between stars, waiting—ever waiting—for the choice that must be made. For it does not compel; it watches. It does not rescue; it beckons. And when the time comes, it calls you to step forward—not to safety, but to the fire. To cast all you think you know into the consuming blaze, that something true, something untamed and eternal, might rise from the ash and shadow.

You will see it soon. Perhaps at the lonely edge of some forgotten road, its gleaming eyes catching the light of a waning moon. Or in a dream so vivid it tears you from sleep, breathless and trembling, as though you have glimpsed a truth too vast to name. Or perhaps it is nearer still, lingering just beyond the reach of your gaze.

When it comes, you will not be ready. No one ever is.

But you will know.

The hoofbeats grow louder. The air itself trembles. The tilt of the world hastens.

And you—you stand at the precipice of the infinite. Vast. Terrible. Beautiful.

Will you step forward? Or will you turn away?

The choice, is always yours.

The question is: will you make it before it’s made for you?