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There is an endless expanse of the present-tense. Every second is a repeat of the preceding seconds in superfluous identical details. What makes this moment religious is the nebulous context of its events, and the ease at which these events are perceived as natural. While this is the 'natural' order of events for this environment, it is by no means instinctual, expect by our perfunctory delusion and stringing along of trivial distractions. Relationships are drawn between analogous things, which themselves are only analogous to themselves, and not anything else. The breath of understanding from which realization is brought forth must indeed be as if the odds of inhaling in outer space and picking up some pocket of pressurized O2 oxygen and nitrogen. The writing seems to have put things more into perspective and taken dignity and articulating meddle, unawares, as the topic dwindles to the psychological and reflective.