F e n g s h u i.
No hill in line. No tree in front. No john above. No wet beneath.
No mirrored hall no bush too tall, no stove with sleep no land too deep
No street too high or wall youll die, no number four no squared off door
No poisoned corner corner corner corner where's that f**king mirror
No stop. Look. Go.
No door face door.
No decisions without my secret compass. No evil. No doubt. No end.
No.
Fengshui.
Somehow, the masters forget about smell, sound and touch. Ask one and bewilderment will never have looked so complete; its all about the seen and the no-that-cant-be-done. They forget about exceptions to the no because their books only speak of rules, not when and how they can be broken.
Fengshui. The subversive art of sight, smell, taste, touch, sound and yes.