Perhaps, because we are born out of a void and return in death to a void, we somehow carry that center of emptiness with us throughout our lives, always trying to fill it with something. But maybe, the whole point is that there will always be a gap, a yearning, a search, and a restlessness that endures. It makes me look upon others with more tenderness, to think we are all walking around in the same way – searching for completion.
I think we must all be angels.
Is it a coincidence that the mark of an angel is its halo? A circle of air, of light, of nothingness.