Digging holy holes denyingly, just like lightening a light cigar from the middle, all look for the main point, right? What kind of a simple story expected is forgotten by simple gods walking around with fake talks. Names and shapes are already Chinese enough to hide the season or months which we are not really experiencing. Keeping the moment short could be a good way but you need to know what you deserve before you shape your non-existence at all, struggling with the breathe you are tasting unconditionally. Uncolored religions or flowers unscented could insist telling you inspiring stories written under an immortal tree shadow but what if the leaves are still yellow or surprisingly greenish gray? Will it make you remind of the shaped, blondy gipsy you have never dreamed of before?