The salt crystals spilled . . . The revelation of where we are, your head in your hands. And when Nana, creator of firmaments, died, My mother made it seem like it was the rest of Us, who died. Onward to a greater reality went The austere server of tea and cookies. She left Us down here in the land of funny shadows.
Creators are uniformly out Of reach, once they've accomplished it.
And here, I reach my true podium voice. We live in a world of second-hand devices, Environments you might say. Once removed, And many times unfinished, kind of sketchy Home improvements. Creation systems . . . If you can get to the current executive level, Identify someone who is in charge of some Area, and they are still alive, you can swerve Them, influence them, have a royal party.