How else do you think life happens? A series of coincidences and occurrences have to happen somehow. Our lives all crash and collide and you think there's no reason or rhyme to it? If there wasn't any reason for it all, what would be the point? Why do you think anything happens at all? There is an outcome, repercussions and occurrences to everybody you meet and everything you say.

Life is everything, and you haven't lived it properly until you believe.

Hundreds of butts in piles on the ground to mark the spot, their lives sucked out of them by their users in panicked distressed frenzy, their souls floating around the insides of lungs while their outsides were dropped, stamped on and deserted

This story is about people,secrets and time.About people who, not unlike parcels,hide secrets,who cover themselves with layers until they present themselves to the right ones who can unwrap them and see inside.

Sometimes there is only one thing left to say, P. S. I Love You.

Always a chancer, always lucky, he'd fall into a river and come out dry, with fish in his pockets.

People forget they have options. And they forget that those things really don't matter. They should concentrate on what they have and not what they don't have.