Too many days too close to the depths of human despair have hung a veil over Seth's eyes, tainting everything that he sees. Visions that do not bear forgetting replay in his mind's eye, pretending to hide in every shadow, projecting like negative images on the backs of his eyelids. Seth knows more than anyone can imagine, but he knows less than he realizes, and what he doesn't know has hurt him deeply. Seth is both more responsible and less responsible than he knows. It's his fault, to be sure, but it's not all his fault, nor is it so faulty as it appears. Seth has secrets no one can imagine. He's not just the man staring out the window, watching the people go by. He's not just the man staring from across the park, mouthing words than you cannot hear, because he's too far away. Seth has secrets you would not believe, but you also have secrets he would not believe. You have secrets he cannot imagine. If only Seth could understand that, although he understands more than anyone, he doesn't understand fully enough. One cannot value what one does not know, and so its value is lost on him. Seth can teach us so much, if we can just teach Seth one thing. Just one thing. We die for lack of one thing, and Seth could save us. But he won't. For lack of one thing, he'll destroy us all.