Geometric shapes are the bane, the torture of life. Perfect. All helps to burn and crisp the soul. A true hell would be blank walls, square empty rooms, white. It is a blend of colours, an uncertainty of shapes, undefinition that keeps us sane. Formularisation, standardising gives us hell. Humour or humor is not logical, evades description frequently. Without shape, this again helps us to retain sanity.

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