The Meaning of Truth (No Really)

We create our own truth, or truths, or versions of it, every time we think our way towards our respective futures.

That is why the only person we must never be totally afraid to speak the truth to, is ourself.

Wow, for a minute there I was coming over all Philosophical.

I should have swandived into a bit of Krishnamurti or the fella down the pub who looks just like him and then stared you right in the metaphorical eye and held your gaze and bluffed it.

But as I sit yer waxing lyrical looking out over the Bay into the darkness, I watch the lights of a trawler some five miles off shore, hauling in its catch.

I wonder what it is like to be one of those men, to be buffeted from high tide to low water in search of Mackerill, Prawns, Rusty Old Fridges and I wonder what truth they tell themselves when things are hard, really hard?

What truths do they say to themselves when the waves throw the boat around like a tin can and the catch is so low that they earn nothing?

Or the Gambler tearing the losing ticket angrily from the stub?
The shop girl crying into her makeup sad to be alone again?

What about you?