I stroll not troll the market. I am not heaven send but hellish current of the underwater. There is nothing wild in the beast, its what is the instinct that drives the beast. There is no hope but the light from darkness that sets upon the things that are heavenly in the world. Then I am not programmed by God but the wild silt of the seabed that makes the things clatter without giving a hoof. It is the world after all that collects the samples of work for the employees and I am a mean idler going the way the car racing goes in the streets. It is nor the end of the world that matters for me but the end of friendship and it never fails me to say hello when there is something outlandish appearing. I am a bit sad but it is not happiness that carries me through the day.But silence.