Photo: Split Apple Rock, Abel Tasman.
Like the two halves of the same apple, smooth where the cut happened, history and truth are often two halves of the same reality, and I realise that, often, I turn reality into a story. Out of habit, or because reality is too hard to face? Something to ponder while remembering the beautiful moments spent at Split Apple Rock, while reading Aftermath, from Rachel Cusk.
The world was like that
wild, angry, often.
one would have to trace its truth,
its curves, its surges
