Let me tell you what happened when i got myself sent, more like, flushed back in the this world. I was a handkerchief, maybe beautifully adorned with ricamo or gracefully gold-rimmed, but still, i was a handkerchief. I have no exceeding authority to speak for others, for I have only my mind and mouth. I might be able to recognize the beauty embodied, the hard work put in, the sweat saturated or the meaning unspoken, thus I would try to preserve with caution, as I'd like to wish and believe. I would fold myself carefully and let not a drop of filth get on, and grow tired with time. Then before I know, I find myself lay flat, ruffled, defiled, ripped, torn. And finally I wake to be soaked by drain water, even myself, if I were endowed with such ability beyond my means, would stretch out one arm and hit flush. Sadly, I was just a handkerchief that's passively driven.

  Then I am in this demension, still a handkerchief, only rent. I don't understand a lot that I am seeing, so much as I didn't understand a lot that i was going through. How could you, my dearest, abide his brutality on your love. He took everything, your flesh, your bones, your heart and your mind and came back in slaughter not once, nor twice but countless of times. You are one of the most hapless or one of the luckiest. Why did you choose to make yourself the former, the pathetic vulture, the less pitied woman, the least pitied of all.  How could you? How could you, my dearest, be so unnostalgic to part with your one, or was he not? How did you manage to appear all in, yet maybe you were much  more reserved at heart? Did I do you wrong? How could you, my darling, judge your targets merely through a scope of sexuality, as if you were never lonely or in need of a sould mate. If you just can't find one, what grief that you are bearing? How could you, dear, stand to say you'd be able and were readily willing to forgive him for cheating. Did you really love him that much or you were just scared of the wild? How could you lose faith like that? Faith, hope and charity, how did they conflict your mind? How could you, darling, pair yourself with the most appropriate yet with the wrong standards, affluence, titles, means, can you live up to one like that? Can he live up to you? How could you come up to me and say in a delighted or down tone that you would have a date and that the date was just another common guy. How could you, darling, be so in love with one girl and not be with her, always out looking out for more. Is she just a glorification of your nature of ramance, of your pretended constancy? How could you? And how could you, be so involved, absorbed, helpless, strayed, possessed?

  I have so many questions, though who would care enough to illustrated a light handkerchief? Most importantly, who else is not such. Just wipe it away, that is what we all do.