"If there is truth..."

I say, "if" as though truth did not lay in constant wait to be uncovered; as though truth were not always anxiously expecting us, its discoverers, to come and liberate it from its burden; as though truth were not ever-patient, undulating to and fro until it is freed, expanding in all directions, charged with a hysterical joie-de-vivre, salivating over the spectral nature of its newfound home, the atmosphere, the air we breathe, the lives we live, newly indestructible, newly indefatigable.

There is truth to be uncovered, and it awaits me at the apartment building off of U Street.