I woke up to-day, but I had no desire to do anything. I stared at the ceiling and thought about the angel in all his dazzling glory.

During the course of the day, I found myself thinking about the angel again, and catching myself I laughed out loud.

And as the sun begins to set, I find myself thinking about the angel once more and this time I associate part of the lyrics of a song by Duncan Dhu: But I, I can’t stop thinking about you. Aïe! Aïe!

Then I think of the hill, overlooking the distance, where I went with the angel on foot like mortals. And I wantèd to kiss the angel. But I couldn’t bring myself for fear of offending. Sometimes, I don’t understand myself, so I blush and say nonsense.

Eyes are an interesting phenomenon. In some, you see nothing as in there is nothing to see there and the intensity, the brightness of those eyes, for all their brilliancy, cannot hide the fact that there is no substance. The dearth of substance is there; ignorance is bliss.

In some eyes, you see sadness that maliciously hides behind it, an intense love for life for insanity … for those things that make life enjoyable and tolerable. There is no substance here either, there is simply life.

In some eyes, as they gaze upon you, liberate you and bring forth what is hiding with you, that part of you that you hide for fear of having it devoured by life.

“In her grey eyes, those gentle but less brilliant windows into her soul, I could see age, experience and life. She look ed at me lovingly, like some Greek devinity, and I craved to have her hold my hand so that my narrative would be less painful. Those eyes of her which hint at the eventual exinguishment of life, transformed me into a schoolboy, eager to co-öperate and be delightful, into that child that wanted to make everyone happy and found happiness in this behavior. I sat next to her meekly and vibrant, my hands clasped together and collected on my lap….”

But I was afraid to look into the eyes of the angel. I was afraid.