You say the most beautiful things

thursday evening, a distressed lesson - annoyed, enfuriated, frustrated, what a waste of time - she romps out of the class and heads home with the most somber impression on her eyes.
All the journey it is only the voice of WHY she can hear, it is only the FACE of WHY she can see. A couple of lonely and peculiar souls try to make contact, but she is not interested. Lets call her Ennui by the way. At that moment Ennui is only interested in inflicting others the same bright light of coldness, indiference and rejection she knows so well this last year - a very tempting frame indeed, one of one wants to get out but fails because it became so addictive.

Finally, almost back - in the sky that bloody bright, cold moon almost in its full power - how nice it would be if the moon failed to appear this evening - if she just missed her appointment, betrayed all us and did not make and appearance tonight.

Back now -  first steps in. A feeling of familiarity and boredon, but at the same time a sense of what is  invaluable, irreplacable, unique - the gift of unconditional love, the gift of your love.

 A sofa, a towel, some tears and your hearth voice,
You say the most beautiful things.