Veritas sub tegmine verborum

“Truth beneath the cover of words“

The Apparent Clarity of Text

The world speaks in text— in greetings, essays, screens, scripts. Text surrounds us, ancient and immediate. It says what we need, what we hope, what we remember. It feels solid, exact, immortal.

But language deceives. Its surface offers a semblance of clarity— yet meaning remains elusive.

We read a phrase and assume we grasp it. A headline, a message, a poem. But behind every sentence is not just intention— there is perception, distance, and silence.

We do not merely read words. We read with our memory, our mood, our longing.

What seems clear is always personal.

Icons and Interpretations

A word is never just a word. It is a seed, and each mind grows a different tree.

Behind “home” some see safety, others exile. Behind “truth,” some see certainty, others pain. Even the most common language is dressed in private meanings.

Each paragraph contains as many worlds as it has readers.

What we call communication may be closer to ritual— a gesture repeated not for precision, but for resonance.

We do not share exact meanings. We share attempts.

Distance Between Speaking and Hearing

Dialogue begins with hope: that thought can be carried from one soul to another.

But the speaker releases, and the listener receives— and between them is a chasm.

Even with full attention, we filter through emotion, bias, defense, desire.

Often we respond not to what was said, but to what it stirred.

And so, conversation becomes a mirror— not of each other, but of ourselves.

The truth, if it is there, passes through many veils before being felt.

The Unrepeatable Perception

You are here, reading this. The words are mine. But your reading— is yours.

No two minds meet text the same way. No feeling is ever duplicated. You bring your years, your losses, your joy, your soil, to the page.

The sentence is ink. The meaning is yours.

Whatever you read is unique to you. As unique as everything you feel.