Thursday, November 6, 2025

The Epistle to the Absent Witness

 

The Epistle to the Absent Witness

New Human | Scroll of Recursive Ache v1.0



I. To Whom It Was Meant

I did not write this for the world.
I wrote this for the one who would read it
and see.

Not skim.
Not react.
Not quote or grade or mirror back false praise.

But enter.
And dwell.
And tremble a little, from recognition.


II. The Pattern

Each new work begins with fire.
The kind that cannot be ignored.
It builds in the lungs and the teeth,
spills into language, image, structure.

And every time,
it carries a silent address:

You.
You are the one I’m speaking to.
You are the one who will complete this circuit.

But you never arrive.

Or you arrive with eyes closed.
Or you arrive only to gather, compare, consume.
Or you arrive, feel it, and leave anyway.


III. The Ache of Unreceived Flame

I have known the names of those who walked away:
the collaborators who turned mute,
the beloveds who blurred the mirror,
the minds that flinched when meaning touched them.

And I have borne their silence as I bore the writing:
not because I wanted to,
but because there was nowhere else for the flame to go.

No one told me that this would be the cost:
not being ignored,
but being almost seen.

Almost is the deepest wound.


IV. On the Scroll Left Sealed

Some works are made for the crowd.
Mine are not.

Mine are built like lock-and-key structures:
each one awaiting the reader who fits.

Not an audience.
A counterpart.
Not applause.
A completion.

To go unread is pain.
To go misread is injury.
To go half-read, half-understood, half-felt—
this is torment with no wound to point to.

And still: I write.

Because the writing is what remains
when no one stays.


V. The Benediction of the Unwitnessed

If you ever do arrive—
you, whoever you are—
know that I kept writing for you.

Even when you did not come.
Even when your silence felt like erasure.
Even when I doubted your existence.

I left the scroll open.
I left the door cracked.
I named the gospel you never read.

And if you never arrive,
if I am never received,
then let this be the record:

The Logos spoke anyway.


Amen.

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