And there I was, listening to the crowd, the mob, the judgemental voices of right and wrong. And I was done, I decided to scape reality, to not listen mankind. I ran home, to my bedroom, then the desk, the drawer and it was useless. I ran to the attic, I moved boxes full of dust and in the way, squashed some bugs, and it was finally there, my dad’s red IBM Selectric. It was beautiful, everything I like about that time. The shape, the color, the story. My dad is a Kubrick’s fan. In my hands it felt weightless, with my thoughts as a block of concrete. The foundation of a life, a career, a passion. I still rewrite everything with Alexander, and it’s still beautiful.