Measuring each bottle slide into the systematic folded precariously loved release boxes, condemned by shadows in fear filled castles of particular target groups treated like pigs in the mud field. Saving minutes of silence while the expanding noise alters reality into whatever the neo term wants it to be, even though every citizen know it is problematic and devastating to the privacy of their human potential deficiency. Living endlessly on the edge of the unfolded bended reality, where the human distinction melts together with the daily furniture, produced sadly without any love or care.