What If You Were Never Supposed to Heal?

A transmission from the Book of Divine Madness by the Priesthood of No-Sense.

⸻

What if the chase for healing…

is the very thing keeping you fractured?

What if the whole obsession with “fixing,” “clearing,” “releasing,” “upgrading,”

wasn’t the road to wholeness…

but the detour from it?

You are not broken.

You are not a puzzle piece missing its divine edge.

You are a fucking masterpiece mid-brushstroke—and it’s the smudges that make it holy.

They told you to become light.

To banish shadow.

To kill the ego.

To release trauma.

To be better.

But you were never meant to be anything other than what you already are.

You didn’t incarnate to erase yourself.

You came to remember that even your wounds are sacred.

The ache in your chest?

The fire in your gut?

The grief that visits you like an old lover?

They are the altars.

Not barriers to divinity, but doorways into it.

Healing is not a path.

It’s not a job.

It’s not a performance for the gods.

It is a trick of time to keep you from waking up

to the truth:

You were never sick.

You were never off-track.

You were never supposed to heal.

You were supposed to remember.

That you are the wild prayer,

the scarred angel,

the holy wound walking.

So throw out the map.

Smear the paint.

Kiss the bruise.

You’re not here to get fixed.

You’re here to get free.

⸻