By now things are getting clearer. I might have found the single-most element that have been messing me up all along. The man died, and I created the small god. The small god turned out pagan, and I became the self-proclaimed little god of small things. Now, all fake gods should step aside and make way for the new reality, based only on what it is, on the subtle arrangements of fate, on genuine desires and dreams, not based on mental images or role models, but based solely on what should later give way to the lines of right and wrong. My kingdom is now what it is, the castles of sand are falling, the throne of ice is melting, and the line between what is and what could be is getting clearer.