The author does not make any claim it is an attempt to recreate no matter how far your relations vary her eyes gradually glazed over similarly structured ominous choruses cluttered before abruptly ending typically ugly but nonetheless replete with harmony occasional ritualistic incantations providing the ocean and wave Does it matter at all that I ever was alive? I do not like to think about my impending death. normal play your turn you lose until then, each a legal move to make everybody stopped counting you can't see it but know roughly an absolute enormous world occasionally daydream again he died in a lunatic asylum everything the simplest thing could possibly be all my life played games and now and then a consequence shouldn't be disguised as usually it is.