Somewhere in the world, while I was flying low on the earth's surface, upon which I was imprissoned for years as the willow tree, I found a friend. I spoke to this new friend. And this soul was full of unspoken wisdom. I wish to delve into this ocean of wisdom. Using my quill and old scroll, I wrote this person's name down. Although this beautiful soul is my friend, I will not claim this person as my own. And there shall come a time that this person will walk away. Reluctant or willing, I shall not know nor forsee. For all of us in this universe are a free energy. We shall not disappear but we shall take another form. Just like what happened to me. But before the day comes that this new friend shall flee, I wrote a letter:

There are only a few beautiful people in this world. You know why they are
beautiful? I believe that they're old souls. They are those few souls that
are in search for something deeper. And that desire to search of the deeper
meaning of one's existence made them break the laws of time and space. They
just keep on dying and then resurrect through rebirth. The brittle surfaces
of these rough skinned souls get etched and smoothed by constant death and
rebirth throughout the centuries of their existence. Until one day, they wake
up in their new lives, shiny like a fine cut diamond. Rare...precious. I
thought YOU were one of them. And I hope YOU were not wrong when u said u
thought I'm beautiful. Because if I am, then your beauty outshines mine. ;-D