Truth is patient. It waits in the shadows, unbothered by attempts to obscure or distort its form. You can weave stories, craft illusions, and cloak reality in layers of pretense, but the truth is unyielding.
Reality is not yours to rewrite, no matter how skillfully you wield your pen. The ink you spill may blur the lines temporarily, but the truth bleeds through—it always does.
We live in a world that loves masks and mirrors. But masks crack, and mirrors shatter. The pieces fall, and with them, the lies crumble. Slowly, silently, the truth rises, undeniable and raw.
It is not a question of if—it never has been. It is only a question of when.
Time is the ally of the truth and the nemesis of deceit. And time, as they say, has a way of revealing everything.
Let them spin their tales, let them twist the narrative. In the end, the truth stands unbroken, unapologetic, and untamed.
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