This is a survival game. This place, white, pristine, no litter in sight, houses those strong enough to have made it out alive. They keep it clean. No dirt. Take the dirt and push it away. Grind it under the asphalt, neatly paved, where the bones of the those not strong enough resign to their rest. Ignore it from the track houses they either abandoned or collapsed in. Divide those houses into four units, add the trapezoidal shingled roofs. Measure them out without error. Make it equal, then make it your own. Behind your recycled fabric curtains, made from organic matter, it's all organic, these particles as evidence of life, the bright pattern you can choose from in exchange for a government-issued coupon: the strategy of live and let live to win the game. Unanimity. Together.

Together must not be broken. Together must not be destroyed.