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    Only the color and at most the shell, if you can see it. In the seed house, the black-brown seed is soaked and dried on the sand. He looks like an outsider wanderer, at the same time confidingly confiding, at other times even luring you in with an insidious desire.

    Its insidious layering is revealed by a regrown thick layer; it always escapes from your grasping hands. It inevitably dictates and interprets the meaning of Being; it casts enticing shadows in front of you.

    When the comical moment comes, you can see him slapping and deceiving his peers clinging to the branches of trees: maybe people also beat each other up in this way, take advantage of each other. Judgment trudges towards everyone with black lead weights, just like the executioner. At the frozen, silent bottom of slimy dreams, everyone can already guess that the rightly dreamed proud present is just a lie that started as a rumination!

    The innocent gaze is shocked by the fact that greedy worms gnawing on the flesh of juicy, southern fruits have stealthily invaded the farm like silt sunk in mud. And that the well-deservedly praised exotic looks merely pretended to play both flirtation and the intentionally orphaned true love.

    The scorned and destroyed revenge shines in Dúlt's eyes, that he was led and deliberately betrayed the emotion of the immortal Allness.

    The loyal, truth-telling mirror of the eyes, when did your gal become a traitor?! This current money-hungry, misusing the World's victims every day. And while the seed can feel comfortable inside its seed house - trampled by the harsh outside world every day, it makes use of its defenseless tugging puppets!

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