Two eyes are met by my visual trajectory. It seemed to already have been looking. There is no movement at all, mere stasis. And still, in this kinetic lacking, there is some type of instant exchange. Some hard to grasp primal feeling is what one cannot help but succumb to. Most would not assume much, though it is undeniable, these black dots want to transfer something to me. There is almost some type of inherent helplessness to the way these oval-shaped diamonds seem to look my way. Their inquisitive nature makes me wonder about the purpose of this uncompromising fixation. What is their intention? What are they saying? Or rather what are they asking?

Rationally, there is no answer to be found. But even without the need for inquiry, the answer seems to have been there all along. The plain on which it unquestionably emerged from makes it inaccessible to verbal description. In some sense, even if it could be accessed, the expression would be lost. The realm of the ethereal is dictated by laws incompatible with the want for understanding. In spite of this truth, the acceptance of the former – in some paradoxical way – still manages to give way to the transmission of some sort of inexplainable impulse. This exact impulse then, in an inexplicable manner, seems to surreptitiously transform and bend in an unearthly way.

Any remaining perceived distance is diminished into nothingness. If one – in this moment – could even conceive of the concept of inter-objectual difference, it would almost sound silly. Like the mention of an afterthought, like the remembrance of a painting consumed by time itself. Maybe this – for once – is an ultimate truth? Maybe all appeals before made to what we still think to be the fruitful mode of inquisition were wrongly construed? What if we have been foolishly ignoring something nature wanted to make known to us all along? What we take to be the simplest, the most minimalistically constructed, out of this new observational lens unequivocally demonstrates itself to be woven in an utmost intricacy of complex material.

Later I return to where I was before. The space on the stairs below – once occupied by the queer-looking creature – now vacantly provokes my eye.

I wonder: Where could the cat have gone?

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