Melancholy Tidings

        Once upon a time, I had a friend. He was my introduction to the world of the illicit, and he taught me the meaning of what it meant to be in an emotionally abusive relationship. He showed me the dark side. I was the guy who devoured book after book, who loved the written word and reveled in acquiring knowledge. He was the guy who only ever read for school, and even then with extremely reluctance. He disparaged intellectualism, and hungrily sought money and power with little potential to ever acquire the wisdom to temper their inevitable ills. I could clearly see then what has proven true now: he was headed down a dark, dark path. I terminated that friendship. I let him go. Not because I didn't care, but because he seemed beyond salvation, and I did not share his interests, aspirations, or his self-destructive tendencies.
       They say that he is now a shadow of his boyhood self, having drank and smoked himself into oblivion. I feel guilt, but not enough to regret not putting myself in the way of his decline, because, by the very nature of that relationship, he would have ruined me even as he destroyed himself. As Nietzsche said, "...when you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into you." My once-friend ran with the shadows, and stared deep and long into the abyss. I console myself with the thought that there was nothing I could have done, as those I could have turned to to help him were among his demons. I feel not a shred of resentment towards him, but am haunted by the news that he now appears to others as a specter on this earth, no good or thinking being, but a mere ghost of a human.
        Consciousness is the greatest curse and blessing of the human race, and in turning away from thought, he gave up his tether to this world. I remember him as a youthful, lively kid, and even though I always knew his heart was not in the right place, I loved him because he acknowledged me when nobody else would. Based on the tidings I've received, he now moves about with a vacant stare, disconnected and barely sane. I do not know how much more I have to say...this upsetting case supports the idea that failure to nurture the gift of consciousness amounts to the murder of potential, and is the shortest road to illness of the mind and body.

-Artem Potemkin