If feathers from the wings of an angel fell would i think them naught but snow?

i see the world from my window. and imagine how it would be if i was more of one thing and less like another. would i dare to step out in the snow, arms lifted to catch the whisper-soft flakes? would i smile and let my head tilt back so that i could glimpse eternity in the falling white? would a laugh escape my lips as the cold touched my cheeks? or would i lose the imagined delight to the sensibilities which lay beyond my window? sometimes i wish i could stay in my room forever, never disturbed, so that i could gaze out my window forever. and what would i glimpse, from that small portal there? i could witness the passage of time and keep the illusion that i am still unchanged. the land would change, people would come, towers would be built. and yet i would stay there, unmoving, unblinking, until at last i find myself without form, a figure silent and sad, still gazing from the window. But that's too sad, isn't it? i didn't, however, mean it to be sad. i was simply thoughtful. after all, thinking remains my only means of escape from the walls i willingly built. but enough of that. though i cannot seem to stop myself, i shall try. no one deserves too many glimpses of so strange a mind. should the strings that hold me ever fail, will i fall into the depths until the end? maybe. but, then, i've always been able to keep myself afloat. ah, it's truly a pity i can't sink beneath the surface. i think being crazy would offer a freedom few of us ever have the opportunity to experience. and that thought alone will keep me sane. i haven't figured out yet whether this is a good or bad thing. maybe the entire world needs a bit of insanity now and then...to pull them--at least for a moment--from the nonsensical. after all, the world never makes sense when you're sane.
oh, but have you ever stood and looked up as the snow fell? it's like you're falling too. the world seems to spin, ever so slightly, beneath you...though you barely feel it because the ground no longer matters. you're there, with the snow, drifting witht he wind. sometimes it's fast, or slow, like a dream. and the world narrows. in the daytime, everything's white and grey, gentle, drifting...but at night...! at night it's as if you're encased in this own little separate realm and things are so focused. nothing matters but those snow flakes fluttering down. nothing. it's a...narrowing of everything...but an expansion, too. it's not something which can be entirely explained, you know? that's why when it snows, i dream of angels' wings. and i dream of things i could never hope to express. i want to keep those moments close...more so than most any other. because...well...have you ever felt everything? i mean, have you ever thought of something far away, of strangers moving around their own little world, doing things entirely separate from you? have you felt, for just a split second, that there was no space? that you could reach out your hand and touch the petal of a flower thousands of miles away and yet at the same time feel the cool, feathery touch of a snowflake? it's like that. only, your encounters are never limited. you know? but, yet again, i babble. needless to say, i love the snow. that should suffice for now...
well, bye!