Thanks to everyone here... I didnt really expect this... Im glad you all liked it but I dont think I deserve such accolades. I just wanted to write something for the small group of people who have been subbed to me for a year. It was just supposed to be something fun and easy. I honestly dont know what to say, but thanks for all the kind words.
This was what I do and try to be in words I could never have conjured. The bonus was ways to recreate what was easy to do when I worked. I’m a recluse and introvert (but not shy) by nature and nurture so now that I’m retired it is much more difficult for me to make friends. You also gave me salve for a very close friendship that died (figuratively) after almost 30 years. A way to be ok with the cherished memories. Thank you.
This is profound truth cloaked in what sounds ridiculous until it doesn’t. There is so much here for those who appreciate metaphor. Thank you something mind awakening that isn’t a rant against the injustice that defines the current administration.
You write as an American. "...the injustice that defines the current administration" is the give-away. And every English speaker on earth knows immediately to whom you refer. Fortunately we have brilliant articles like the one we both just read to keep us feeling alive. Not safe. Breathing.
I didn’t intend to mask who I was referring to. It was obvious. I just said it without using names. You are correct; we aren’t safe. Now and again, I fear that some reply or comment I make on Substacks is going to lead to someone knocking on my door and handcuffing me. I forwarded this or emailed it to people I knew would appreciate it. I’m an American who served my country 25 years. I am thankful for The Shadowed Archive, who also serves with his words.
The Shadowed Archive is a brilliant woman. Because the discourse involves social sciences, it took me a while to determine the sex of the essayist. That is one sign of her genius.
You’re right. Inserting my own bias into such a beautiful piece of writing was inappropriate. I can’t take it back, I don’t think. I will give delete or edit a try.
I will search for something really powerful to say when my eyes aren't burning from tears and I have sent this to the five precious infinite friends I have. I cannot tell you how perfect and perfectly timed this was to/for me. I just survived a serious metastatic cancer scare and instead only lost two ounces of my neck to surgery. My five IF's each did everything just right by me, and all differently. My 3rd round of tears when you wrote "When it is your turn to go under, let them carry your name like a match cupped against wind." Thank you. Thank you.
I mean, I'm on anxiety meds but I'm approachable, outgoing and a recluse. You can be all of those things, it's probably not your place to play armchair doctor.
Please, even when you blow up on Substack(as you deserve) continue to write as if you wrote for the small group of people who have been subbed to you for a year ❤️ You made me wish I could invite you for the fig tart that didn’t turn out so good, make you some tea and just listen to you talk, or write or reason over what to add or remove from the article ☺️ Friendship is a beautiful thing!
My default setting is to be a loner. So to agree with you would be easy enough. But I can't. Strip away the trappings of the internet age as well as that of materialism and think back to when you were a child enjoying play school. Making friends was as natural as the sun rising in the east. Kids play together. They may not always get along, but put a group of kids in place and some form of interaction takes place. Of course some kids do better than others and they have to learn about interactions, but it is the exception rather than the rule for kids to be left out. As they get older, outside forces will influence them, such as race, religion, money etc,
Something in me actually can’t believe this exists. That means, I didn’t believe I was reachable. That means, I didn’t believe I belonged. Almost all of my friendships have changed or died this past year. This, my friend. It is the best thing I have read in a year of collapse. I laughed, I cried, and my grief felt connected at last. Not a burden, but another door. I can’t tell you how badly I needed a door. Thank you.
I don’t usually click on these kind of posts, but based on the praise from the person who shared it, I started reading and couldn’t stop. What a combination of humor and insight. I think of myself as one who is comfortable with solitude, but I believe I may need to re-evaluate my thinking. I can’t wait to read more!
because this is still the top comment three days later, can I just say: but bother! please bother! bother because sometimes you will write something that makes you feel a little more alive just for a minute, even if no one else ever reads it! bother not because the world needs your writing but because you need the world, and this is how you want to appreciate it! but if you really want to write, just write. don't bother about the why.
I totally understand the impulse and I feel it too, but I dream of the day when I see something wonderful and instead of making me think I shouldn't bother being creative, it inspires me to be wonderful too.
I needed to read this. I understand some things about friendship I didn’t understand before, and I’ve lived a pretty long time. Thank you. When I’ve weeded out a couple of substacks that are never as meaningful as this, as helpful in offering a new perspective, I will become a paid subscriber. Brilliant writing, but more, a balm to my heart. You may have just changed a life, and isn’t that why we write?
I like the theme and there may be a lot more to write on friendship, for instance losing friends after long years spent in friendship. When and why that is necessary at times. Staying friends with exes..wise or unwise? Is a long break necessary or do you dive right in? Why we have to let go (or not) of friendships that no longer benefit one or both parties? How much time or negative incidences should we give those relationships? What if we lose trust? Like that…
This essay feels like poetic AI trained on mysterious Reddit posts. Entirely too quippy and pithy to be enjoyable. It doesn't read as human AT ALL. No offense if it's a real human writing this -- you're clever at the very least.
Damn I needed to read this today. Especially this part-
“Lose some on purpose.
You’ll misjudge. They’ll misjudge you. Sometimes the chemical experiment yields a little smoke and a brown crust in the beaker. Resist the autopsy. Wish them a gentle life and walk on. Compost the disappointment; it will grow something improbable”
This is probably the single best piece of writing I have read in 20 years... maybe 30. And I read a LOT. Not just because it was beautiful (it was) and delightful (it was) and true (it was), but because it is actually *important* to name and call out this thing 'friend' that has been hiding away like a coward under the veil we call 'community', afraid to say the truth: I need a friend, because we are ashamed to admit we don't have one, we don't know how to do it anymore, we don't know where to start, we have forgotten the program.
I wish I could print a million copies and hand deliver them everywhere they belong.
Easily the best piece I have read all year. If this doesn’t see a million likes by the end of the day, we did it wrong. Read it, re-read it, SHARE it (“an offering”), read it again tomorrow - live it. Rinse. Repeat. Well done.
I was trying to ask, and quite obviously didn’t, how to save this article? Still enjoy but don’t really understand Substack. I think I learned that there is a word limit for comments, though. ( The hard way)
AND I thought it was an important and delightful article. And quite quotable! And in need of saving to re-read when I find out how to do that.
Remarkable writing - part sermon, part stand-up, part mystical treatise. So friendship is both doomed and divine, unworkable and indispensable. It’s an elegy and an instruction manual. Genius.
I'm neurodivergent and am a psychotherapist to many other neurodivergent folk who often tend to get tripped up on navigating friendships, and particularly internalizing when things don't work, and this is a great resource I intend on giving to them. It was very helpful for me to have someone put into words the trial and errors of friendships I have experienced in a way that resents it as a universal human experience and not just me being bad at friendship. Thanks for this!
Holy fuck dogs. My heart expanded. My eyes needed ibuprofen. The hero of my dream took a flesh wound to the trophy-wall.
This author wrote something that reminds me that stars are actually little holes in the ceiling of our Truman show that reveal the infinite light that we simply don't have physical eyes for.
If I am but lines then part of me just got coloured in with phat paint brushes.
This piece nails the absurd holiness of friendship — the way it’s both bureaucracy and miracle, masks and metaphysics. I love how it insists that friendship matters because it’s impossible, and how the Infinite Friend shows up in disguises we don’t expect. Makes me want to honor the errands, the silences, and the interruptions as much as the grand moments.
Thanks to everyone here... I didnt really expect this... Im glad you all liked it but I dont think I deserve such accolades. I just wanted to write something for the small group of people who have been subbed to me for a year. It was just supposed to be something fun and easy. I honestly dont know what to say, but thanks for all the kind words.
This was captivating. Thank you. You described the indescribable. The little moments. Thank you for shedding light on the important of the in-betweens
you deserve ALL the accolades here, my friend.
Agreed. This writing has me feeling relieved that I’ll never be that good. Thank you for the dark laughs: they’re just my colour.
This was what I do and try to be in words I could never have conjured. The bonus was ways to recreate what was easy to do when I worked. I’m a recluse and introvert (but not shy) by nature and nurture so now that I’m retired it is much more difficult for me to make friends. You also gave me salve for a very close friendship that died (figuratively) after almost 30 years. A way to be ok with the cherished memories. Thank you.
Your post could have been mine ... x
This is profound truth cloaked in what sounds ridiculous until it doesn’t. There is so much here for those who appreciate metaphor. Thank you something mind awakening that isn’t a rant against the injustice that defines the current administration.
You write as an American. "...the injustice that defines the current administration" is the give-away. And every English speaker on earth knows immediately to whom you refer. Fortunately we have brilliant articles like the one we both just read to keep us feeling alive. Not safe. Breathing.
I didn’t intend to mask who I was referring to. It was obvious. I just said it without using names. You are correct; we aren’t safe. Now and again, I fear that some reply or comment I make on Substacks is going to lead to someone knocking on my door and handcuffing me. I forwarded this or emailed it to people I knew would appreciate it. I’m an American who served my country 25 years. I am thankful for The Shadowed Archive, who also serves with his words.
The Shadowed Archive is a brilliant woman. Because the discourse involves social sciences, it took me a while to determine the sex of the essayist. That is one sign of her genius.
Neither delete or edit worked. Sorry.
You’re right. Inserting my own bias into such a beautiful piece of writing was inappropriate. I can’t take it back, I don’t think. I will give delete or edit a try.
This is gracious discourse. Very nice to see.
I will search for something really powerful to say when my eyes aren't burning from tears and I have sent this to the five precious infinite friends I have. I cannot tell you how perfect and perfectly timed this was to/for me. I just survived a serious metastatic cancer scare and instead only lost two ounces of my neck to surgery. My five IF's each did everything just right by me, and all differently. My 3rd round of tears when you wrote "When it is your turn to go under, let them carry your name like a match cupped against wind." Thank you. Thank you.
God bless you.
Thank you; you as well, PT.
A reclusive, ‘unshy’ introvert, eh? You sound like an interesting, pull-a-part case study in self-diagnosed labeling and/or splitting hairs.
I mean, I'm on anxiety meds but I'm approachable, outgoing and a recluse. You can be all of those things, it's probably not your place to play armchair doctor.
You’re probably right, Doc. 😘
Neither of us are doctors buddy.
Please, even when you blow up on Substack(as you deserve) continue to write as if you wrote for the small group of people who have been subbed to you for a year ❤️ You made me wish I could invite you for the fig tart that didn’t turn out so good, make you some tea and just listen to you talk, or write or reason over what to add or remove from the article ☺️ Friendship is a beautiful thing!
This is hilarious. Now I want to be your friend
That's hilarious. Thanks.
I imagine you will come expect this attention more if you continue to produce as such. Kudos on an amazing essay.
A subject well written, dissected and explained, as others have said above it was captivating, seemed ridiculous until it didn’t. Thank you !
I immediately sent this to my five friends. Now I must go back and read your previous posts. Thank you 🖤
This is the first piece of yours I have read. There is so much here but what I really responded to was the subtle humor.
Don’t even know how I got here, but I am forever changed by this moving piece and glad I did!
My default setting is to be a loner. So to agree with you would be easy enough. But I can't. Strip away the trappings of the internet age as well as that of materialism and think back to when you were a child enjoying play school. Making friends was as natural as the sun rising in the east. Kids play together. They may not always get along, but put a group of kids in place and some form of interaction takes place. Of course some kids do better than others and they have to learn about interactions, but it is the exception rather than the rule for kids to be left out. As they get older, outside forces will influence them, such as race, religion, money etc,
but that is not nature's fault.
Something in me actually can’t believe this exists. That means, I didn’t believe I was reachable. That means, I didn’t believe I belonged. Almost all of my friendships have changed or died this past year. This, my friend. It is the best thing I have read in a year of collapse. I laughed, I cried, and my grief felt connected at last. Not a burden, but another door. I can’t tell you how badly I needed a door. Thank you.
I don’t usually click on these kind of posts, but based on the praise from the person who shared it, I started reading and couldn’t stop. What a combination of humor and insight. I think of myself as one who is comfortable with solitude, but I believe I may need to re-evaluate my thinking. I can’t wait to read more!
It's writing like this that makes me wonder why I even bother
because this is still the top comment three days later, can I just say: but bother! please bother! bother because sometimes you will write something that makes you feel a little more alive just for a minute, even if no one else ever reads it! bother not because the world needs your writing but because you need the world, and this is how you want to appreciate it! but if you really want to write, just write. don't bother about the why.
Trust me: I will not stop bothering! The day I stop bothering is the day I know I've lived too long
Aw, I love Substacker support
THANK YOU!!! I was hoping there was more of this in the comments.
I totally understand the impulse and I feel it too, but I dream of the day when I see something wonderful and instead of making me think I shouldn't bother being creative, it inspires me to be wonderful too.
YES! and may that dream come true sooner rather than later :)
exactly 😂😂😂 but we’ll still do 😗🤭
Thank god I just write songs
Heuristic musings are so enjoyable, I find it hard to be the leader but love the journey in step with the writer.
SAME 😭
Right?
I needed to read this. I understand some things about friendship I didn’t understand before, and I’ve lived a pretty long time. Thank you. When I’ve weeded out a couple of substacks that are never as meaningful as this, as helpful in offering a new perspective, I will become a paid subscriber. Brilliant writing, but more, a balm to my heart. You may have just changed a life, and isn’t that why we write?
That’s extremely kind! Thank you so much! Is there smth specific you would like to read about by chance?
I like the theme and there may be a lot more to write on friendship, for instance losing friends after long years spent in friendship. When and why that is necessary at times. Staying friends with exes..wise or unwise? Is a long break necessary or do you dive right in? Why we have to let go (or not) of friendships that no longer benefit one or both parties? How much time or negative incidences should we give those relationships? What if we lose trust? Like that…
My thought exactly
Amen to that!
Felt the same haha
So good.
Same!!
Because you will write something potentially excellent in a completely different way.
Writing like this reminds me why I bother to write, most of the time obviously I get discouraged sometimes too.
🤣🤣 yea, me too
This essay feels like poetic AI trained on mysterious Reddit posts. Entirely too quippy and pithy to be enjoyable. It doesn't read as human AT ALL. No offense if it's a real human writing this -- you're clever at the very least.
I'm a thirty one year old lurker who never comments on anything anywhere. But man that fucking moved me. Bravo.
Damn I needed to read this today. Especially this part-
“Lose some on purpose.
You’ll misjudge. They’ll misjudge you. Sometimes the chemical experiment yields a little smoke and a brown crust in the beaker. Resist the autopsy. Wish them a gentle life and walk on. Compost the disappointment; it will grow something improbable”
This is probably the single best piece of writing I have read in 20 years... maybe 30. And I read a LOT. Not just because it was beautiful (it was) and delightful (it was) and true (it was), but because it is actually *important* to name and call out this thing 'friend' that has been hiding away like a coward under the veil we call 'community', afraid to say the truth: I need a friend, because we are ashamed to admit we don't have one, we don't know how to do it anymore, we don't know where to start, we have forgotten the program.
I wish I could print a million copies and hand deliver them everywhere they belong.
Let’s print some and leave them in probable and improbable places!
i am totally grieving right now because of this essay and i don't understand how you haven't blown up on substack yet
Easily the best piece I have read all year. If this doesn’t see a million likes by the end of the day, we did it wrong. Read it, re-read it, SHARE it (“an offering”), read it again tomorrow - live it. Rinse. Repeat. Well done.
thanks
Wholeheartedly agree. Like the remaining books in my library, I like to re-re-re-read the good ones. and this substack article will join those.
How do
I was trying to ask, and quite obviously didn’t, how to save this article? Still enjoy but don’t really understand Substack. I think I learned that there is a word limit for comments, though. ( The hard way)
AND I thought it was an important and delightful article. And quite quotable! And in need of saving to re-read when I find out how to do that.
The Boy, the God, the Fangs
I.
Augustine wept for the boy who was gone,
A childhood companion, a soul to lean on.
When flesh was absent, his heart became torn,
And from that absence, a God was born.
Not shaped from thunder, nor temple stone,
But aching desire for what he had known.
The wound was a hollow he dared not confess,
So he filled it with heaven, and called it blessed.
II.
A deity formed of relentless ache,
A shadow that love alone could not slake.
Yearning distilled into doctrine and creed,
An infinite hunger disguised as need.
Every prayer a whisper for the boy he missed,
Every psalm a kiss that could not be kissed.
His faith was a bandage for loss made raw,
Longing’s cathedral, longing’s law.
III.
What is belief but grief in disguise,
A shrine erected where memory lies?
A God who is nothing but absence made flame,
A language for hunger too sharp to name.
Augustine clothed the hole in a crown,
Said longing was holy, the soul’s renown.
But trace each hymn to its trembling core,
And you find the boy he can’t adore.
IV.
Nietzsche arrives, a sunbeam wild,
The angry laughter of a wounded child.
He spat on the idols, he shattered their grace,
But carried the void in his radiant face.
Not the God of longing, too soft, too tame,
He sought the friend who would match his flame.
One to resist him, and make him bleed,
One who would answer his savage need.
V.
He begged for a comrade, brutal and near,
A foe who was brother, a brother severe.
The fangs he demanded were never his own,
But teeth grown sharp when together alone.
For truth, he said, is a dance with pain,
A wrestling embrace where nothing is vain.
The sunbeam turned petulant, fierce, and strange,
For want of a friend who would force him to change.
VI.
Augustine cradled his grief like a cross,
Nietzsche demanded the violence of loss.
One built a heaven to soften the blow,
The other cried, “Strike me! Teach me! Grow!”
Between them yawns the eternal divide:
Longing that heals, and longing denied.
Both men aflame with the ache of the friend,
Both still unfed when their stories end.
VII.
The boy who died, the friend not found,
Two wounds that echo where thought is bound.
From such small cracks does philosophy start,
A funeral’s hush, a restless heart.
We call them sages, we call them wise,
Yet all their towers were built on cries.
God and fang are the twin replies,
To the ache that lingers when friendship dies.
VIII.
So Augustine knelt where the silence bled,
Clasping the ghost of the boy now dead.
And Nietzsche howled at the barren air,
“Where is the rival who dares to care?”
Each took their hunger and crowned it high,
One made it holy, one made it a cry.
Both still haunted, both still undone,
By the shadow of friendship lost in the sun.
IX.
Is God but the echo of absent touch,
The fever of love that burned too much?
Is will-to-power a mask for despair,
A child demanding someone there?
The thinkers who forged the paths we tread,
Spoke most loudly of what they fled.
One longed backward, one longed ahead,
Both bound fast to the friend they’d shed.
X.
So what is longing, and what is need,
But friendship twisted into creed?
A hand once warm, a gaze once kind,
Now rules the heavens, or breaks the mind.
Every great system, each noble phrase,
Is born of absence, of darkened days.
And man, that creature of ache and flame,
Invents his gods to disguise the shame.
XI.
Augustine whispers: “The loss is divine.
Longing itself is the holy sign.”
Nietzsche thunders: “The loss is a test.
Bite down, grow fangs, and break the rest.”
One makes a lover eternal above,
One makes a rival the proof of love.
Yet both confess, in their hidden song,
That friendship, once gone, unravels the strong.
XII.
So here we stand, their heirs, their kin,
Haunted by losses beneath the skin.
We pray to Gods that are longing’s clay,
We beg for friends who will force our way.
Two paths diverge, yet the root is one:
The wound of the friend, the absent sun.
And all philosophy, harsh or sweet,
Is a cry for the boy we’ll never meet.
Where did this poem come from? Wow!!
I wrote it. Inspired by the original writer of this excellent article on the importance of friends.
Thank you!
It's incredible. Well done.
Amazing. I might have to read it a few more times
Wow. What gold here.
This, this is poetry, I’m in awe
Beautiful writing!
this is the first time I finished an article this long...
Remarkable writing - part sermon, part stand-up, part mystical treatise. So friendship is both doomed and divine, unworkable and indispensable. It’s an elegy and an instruction manual. Genius.
I'm neurodivergent and am a psychotherapist to many other neurodivergent folk who often tend to get tripped up on navigating friendships, and particularly internalizing when things don't work, and this is a great resource I intend on giving to them. It was very helpful for me to have someone put into words the trial and errors of friendships I have experienced in a way that resents it as a universal human experience and not just me being bad at friendship. Thanks for this!
I didn’t understand everything, but I felt understood
Well, that was delicious.
Absolutely amazing and delicious 😋😂.
Holy fuck dogs. My heart expanded. My eyes needed ibuprofen. The hero of my dream took a flesh wound to the trophy-wall.
This author wrote something that reminds me that stars are actually little holes in the ceiling of our Truman show that reveal the infinite light that we simply don't have physical eyes for.
If I am but lines then part of me just got coloured in with phat paint brushes.
Wow, I’m gonna read… as soon as I send you those leeereeques.
This piece nails the absurd holiness of friendship — the way it’s both bureaucracy and miracle, masks and metaphysics. I love how it insists that friendship matters because it’s impossible, and how the Infinite Friend shows up in disguises we don’t expect. Makes me want to honor the errands, the silences, and the interruptions as much as the grand moments.
I knew this would be an amazing read from:
"If you were natural you would be a moss"
I wasn't disappointed.