Seems I’ve been looking out of the window for a long time and what Ive seen is impossible to touch. There is a world on the other side of the glass, outside the train, outside the office and sometimes I remember how it feels, how it smells, how it looks and how it sounds. When I die, I don’t want to regret the time I spent looking out of the window but rather celebrate that i came to the realisation that none of the …. Matters and I got off the train to see, hear, see and smell the world. My only regret should be that I did not love you ENOUGH, although I loved and loved and loved.