And so came the fallen angle, neither obtuse nor acute, but something more. Or was it something less? The fallen angle felt something. Curiosity. Although the angle did not know what it was at first. It wondered about things. Sometimes... At other times, desire. But what for? Strangely enough, it felt a curiosity about desire, and a desire to be curious. Very circular. It wondered once in a while about that too. The angle saw many things, and knew much. But it just kept looking, what for it did not know. Love? Maybe. Trust? Possibly. Lust? Could be. Friendship? Might be. It did not know.
It still does not know. It still searches. It searches inside the hearts of humans, in the shells of snails, in furnaces, in places where you would never expect to see a fallen angle. Meaning, everywhere, 'cause I'd bet you would never expect a fallen angle at all, would you? Maybe one day, it will find what it is looking for. Maybe it won't. Maybe you'll see it searching your life. Maybe. Strange be the ways of angles, more so an angler fish. It's consciousness at high noon, blazing, burning, still searching, and yet ever tender.
Have you experienced it before? This upsurge of life, a desire to know, a rush of exhilaration, a burst of adrenaline. I believe they called it "Love". But what I want to know is who's they?
No comments:
Post a Comment