This book will not meet your expectations. The absolute dissonance with the already accepted reality is more likely to outrage. Bloody gangster snot, whipped the "nineties" of one and caressed the happy childhood of the other. There are no dead, and therefore understandable meanings in this book. There is no spirituality, which is saturated with two thousandths. This book, like the sole of a yal boot, gives hope. This book carves sparks of rabies and dissent, but aren't sparks sparking fires? Fires that wander in the dark. Tired, wounded, deceived.