Are you reading this? No, I'm listening too. It's how it was hundreds of years back, or something like that. When we would sit around a dusty room a few meters inside a mountain, and keep the fire going to warm and choke. And there was a genealogy to the narratives even if we didn't know those words. It is too presumptions to say we because then was a different time. And the bloom will happen every year but not forever.