the greatest tragedy of all

27 Nov. 2002

only certain things can be healed with time. a soul is not one of them. when the soul is damaged, the whole person is damaged. every aspect of that person has been ruined, twisted around, beaten into compliance. the soul cries for help, cries to be healed, for the hardships and hell to be taken away. it cries to a god, but god is not there. god does not answer prayers, or help you in your need. god is not there for the soul. it cries to time, to take away its suffering. to renew its life and heal its blemishes. it cries to time to fix all things. but time does not listen. time is not a friend to the soul. time does not care, it has but one purpose… to keep going. the soul is restless. it cries out in pain. it cries out in despair. and finally, it just cries. because only one thing can heal the soul. the keeper of the soul searches for this one thing in vain. he searches ceaselessly. she searches in the wrong places. the keeper stumbles through the world, cursing god and cursing time, though the soul slowly deteriorates away. the keeper falls down, gets up, and falls again. lying on the floor, the keeper finds meaning. in darkness, the meaning of life becomes clear. and it cannot be searched for. no, and time cannot be cursed. time does not meddle with the affairs of the soul. lying on the floor, face-down, in darkness, the keeper finds meaning. and in this revelation, the keeper finds comfort. lying on the floor, the keeper finds logic, yet the soul remains crying. the keeper is reborn into the darkness, into the endless knowledge that it holds. the keeper rises up, and moves on. but a transformation has taken place, there, lying on the floor. the keeper found knowledge, and in this knowledge the keeper ceased to be a person. for the keeper cannot live without the soul, the soul cannot live without that which cannot be searched for. the soul is dying.

only certain things can be healed with time: the keeper, in time, will heal its wounds. the slashes made with the razor blade will heal and fade. the friendships that keeper has made will be mended and broken, mended and broken, and mended again. physical health will be achieved, although mental health will take longer. yes, in darkness the keeper will heal, yet he ceased to be a person long ago. she tried to move on, and failed. the soul is dying. the soul is dead. the world is hell, the keeper’s mind in ruins. nothing is well, nothing is as it should be, because he stopped searching. she found the knowledge in the darkness, and in that knowledge she stopped searching. the keeper receded into the mind, that which connects the keeper with the soul, and stayed there, refusing to try. the keeper stopped searching, stopped trying, stopped living. for what is the use of searching for something that cannot be searched for? what is the use of trying, when time and god have abandoned you? what is the use of living, just to be dead inside anyway?

the soul that cried for help was never heard. the soul that was dying was never cared for. the soul that is now dead lingers in the world, waiting for time to carry it away.

the dead soul is the greatest tragedy of all. all this torment and pain, surrender and death could have been avoided, if only the soul had felt that which cannot be searched for. just for one brief moment, the soul would live again, would thrive, and in that moment (since time does not meddle in the affairs of the soul), a lifetime would pass. the keeper would be whole again, the soul would be healed. he would be seen as a person. she would be seen as a person. they would be fixed, be uplifted, be seen as individuals. but only if that which cannot be searched for would come to the soul willingly.

yes, time may heal many things, but only that which cannot be searched for can heal the soul.
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ten imaginary dollars goes to the person who knows what the "something that cannot be searched for" is.