The gods move from green to red to unred. That moon last night meant something We waited as gods were distinct, apparent, and worth there. Words happened then, left over there. Yellow leaves and red ones left fall. Fall left the angry Friday. Only in the graph becomes the next sentence. Rigged moon map, pack ice as angry machine. The angry framework plus loss living here entitled reveals the basic need squirm melting pack ice. Soon the open winter door.
Explain everything backwards now, so anyone can see. Your autism map needs sharing, Donald.