To Fractal in Motion, traveler, Penitent, Pilgrim, Disciple of the Sacred Teapot:
You speak truly when you say no one can fix you… but I think not in quite the way you mean. None of us can be fixed, not because we are not broken – we break each time we make contact with one another, for things in this universe are not meant to truly touch, are they? Your Little Gods, your atoms, never brush against one another, live always in their sparkling cloud of probabilities.
But we do. What occurs at the intersection of two sentient phenomena – I say phenomena, my friend, because I have counted many very personable Occurrences, Axioms, and the occasional Force among my beloved – is very literally metaphysical. To transcend the physical. When we interact, we touch, in a way no other particle in this universe can. And so we break. Fragile, never touched before, our skin cracks at the slightest contact, and we feel that we will shatter.
In that moment, we discover the only true opposition to entropy: our evolution, our becoming. Molten gold runs in the cracks and you are remade, the same but not the same, for now every inch of your soul is a map of where you fell apart, these scars not hidden but gilded.
So I agree that no one can fix you. You are fixed already, Wandering Gyre, Restless Spiral. The entirety of your pain, your loss, your forgetfulness, your destruction and reincarnation, are encompassed in this moment, in who you are. And so too are the things that enabled you to survive those events – the gold that holds you together.
Only when we make contact can we be broken, and only when we make contact can we be reforged. No one can fix you… but no one can fix themselves alone.