What if...? A question we ask to hurt ourselves.

Sometimes we have so much to say, we cannot say it. Sometimes it's best we do not say goodbyes.

But maybe the best thing I learnt was this: that we cannot know a person's soul and nature until we've sat beside them, and talked.

Which people take the time to care for their souls, these days? I reckon not many. But...hear this: I think that maybe in our lives - in our scrabbling for food, in the washing of our bodies and warming of them, in our small daily battles - we can forget our souls. We do not tend to them, as if they matter less. But I don't think they matter less.

I believe the world is as we choose to view it. Simple as that. Our happiness is, in the end, up to us, and to no one else.

We all have our demons to deal with, Little Pigeon. It's when we cherish them - cradle them to our breasts and feed them, day after day-that's when they curdle our souls.

Love is blind, they say--but isn't it more that love makes us see too much? Isn't it more that love floods our brain with sights and sounds, so that everything looks bigger, brighter, more lovely than ever before?