Human heart is a curious thing.
It has, for example, remarkable powers of healing. I suppose that's necessary if we wish to spend this life in a relative absence of deranged running down the street with our knickers on our head screaming obscenities at god.
However, I assume that for these alms of the spirit to work, one has to be willing to apply them. I know of quite a few people who wallow in their misery, who see nothing but their broken dreams, who pine for things they cannot have and are blind to things right in front of them. Such ways only, in the end, bring us to the aforementioned naked lunatic exhibition sessions.

The process of healing is a remarkably simple one. It doesn't require a lot of materials or complicated surgery. I, for example, used a roll of duct tape, a rubber elephant and some bird spit. Oh yes. And some sleep. It's amazing what sleep will do to you. And dreams. Dreams are the nectar of the soul. It is up to us, really, to determine the flavor. I prefer the not-so-bitter-you-want-to-bite-your-own-head-off kind.

And in the end, there's the wish. The will. Who cares, both start with the same letter. It's the oomph of the mind, the effort of thought, that drives us forward like divine wind upon our cosmic sails. The wish to plug that crack that bursts with a poet's blood, to repair the hole in the sole. And then, it begins, the healing.

So in order to heal, you have to will it.

Amazing how many people miss that simple fact.