A Fearful Confession

I can’t exactly remember since when, as an angel, I started crying. One thing I know for sure and that is the fact that it hasn’t been haphazard. I discovered that I could cry too by a special event that I don’t remember.

The world I live in has only three colors: black, white and gray. I don’t know what color I am but it is different from these three and it’s different from those of yours. Can you describe your colors?

I cry many times. I cry when I fly and that is when someone suddenly feels a cold drop on his cheek but when he looks upward at the sky he finds out that it’s not raining. I cry when I dream that there is a bifurcation of a path. Because I don’t know what I should do and which path I should take; for I don’t know how to choose. But I’ve seen that many of you easily can. Can anyone teach me how to choose? I cry a lot when I see a girl push her face into the pillow and cry for she misses love—maybe in vain and maybe not. I don’t know what I should do for her, because I don’t know how to help. No one has taught me to. I cry for I cannot walk on earth. My heels are always so above the earth.

I cry; for I cannot be you and it is exactly when you suddenly feel very cold at dawn…