The same planet, the same. Same but different.
How the environment affect us? How the air can be translated to our feelings? What is the rhythm of our breath when the view around drastically changes from the deepest light to the darkest surface?
Nothing poetic on the game of survival. When man hunting are perpetuated through the tube, and the thin line of reality and dream are just windows of our daily nightmare.
Aside of the great changes, small landscapes of our heart sometimes have deeper meanings than love itself.
Dualism in the quotations or phrases spelled, we do still dealing with the galloping emotions of our ancestors wishes and fears. Be that on distant memories and untouched corners of our minds, where controlling means nothing when those are evoked.
Let it be done.