Show Me an Addict, and I’ll Show You a Being with Godly Gifts.
Will yours find expression, in this short skip of a life?
Tis true. The soul knows. The prayer holds. And yet, coming into body and being, we forget. At least for now. At least as long as our now self makes meaning.
Here, the onslaught of others. Here, we do what we can.
This saves us, for a while. It’s the birthplace of our greatest gifts, our resilience, our survival. In the tight, urgent immediate, it works. Thereafter, it’ll do.
Until, of course, it doesn’t. Because from this place, from the white hot embers of doing what we can, another spirit surfaces. Beckoned from beyond, birthed once more into being…it cleaves to us, this secret twin.
Unseen hands feel their way through hidden spaces. Searching. Always searching. Bony fingers find a handhold…a chokehold…sustenance.
The feast is extravagant. The feast has been raging for ages. Every hurt real or imagined. Every hardship recalled or forgotten. Self, others, ancestors, Universe—all of creation is in on it.
So the spirit feeds. So the spirit flourishes. Changing shape in the fires, fuelled by all that was and all that is, it grows, consumes, leaves us…extinguished.
Here lies our original shining self. Here lies the origins of addiction. The details change. The story’s the same. Only we can maybe, perhaps, choose different.
Meanwhile, as we weave through decades of comings and goings, timelines blur, tangle, become unruly. We remember big moments and small moments and somehow important details even as…their importance eludes us.
Equally sacred moments are secreted away, whether through willful disappearance, self-preservation, or simple forgetting. No matter. They’re in there, taking their place amidst all we inherited—knowingly sometimes, unknowingly far more.
Fear not! This collection of artefacts remembered and forgotten, seen and unseen, ours and not ours, is more than a Box of Shadow. It too holds beauty and light. It too holds our purest essence.
Show me an addict—show me a human—and I’ll show you a being possessing godly gifts. Whether they find expression in this short skip of a life, well, that depends on many things.