My Soul was lost many years ago - before what you call continents had formed. I last saw it in the hands of a vampire, who had plucked it carefully out and subsequently cherished it.
If only that vampire knew about the properties of that Soul it had stolen.
Or what if it doesn't even matter what that vampire knows? What if the vampire is irrelevant?
I often wonder where my Soul goes -- where It trickles, disintegrates, or simply collapses. Does my Soul merely become a Dilution, over time? Or does it Concentrate?
Or does it just ebb and flow? Enjoying what is possible so far?
My hope is that this ebbing and enjoying Soul of mine will transfer through significant other souls, conveying praises, gratitude and anticipations.
Me, myself and Effingoode, though, we got no Souls.
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