There is no better way to describe this whole experience than to say and call it ughak. Mustering all of your inner connectivity and mindfulness, and translating the anger, sadness, and countless thought cycles into not a book. That is the important part. This is not a book. I stress this because equivocation is counterintuitive in finding the truth. Just because this has the same elements that a book has, does not mean that it is a book. A book can be ughak. But ughak is not a book, but so much less.