It used to be easy, not to say what I meant, but to mean what I said. You just had to put ink on paper and look through the window of your own personal train. You just had to listen to your pounding heart, so certain of those things. What to do. Who to love. How the future would be bright. And suddenly, you realized nothing made sense. You were observing a body being devoured in an artificial marsh, observing your body being directed to a stupid and easy hotel room, observing your brain being measured, judged, analyzed. You were dead and you hadn’t even noticed. You were making maths. You were hoping to buy houses, cars, clothes and cosmetics. You were feeding on screens. You were smiling on command. Things weren’t so important and people so disappointing anymore. The most surprising part of it, you would tell yourself, is how no one had seen this coming: demonstrating on a yearly base, being supportive and acting concerned about global warming, no one had noticed that the world didn’t need blood, explosions and floods to come to an end, it didn’t even need big bad guys: it had loads of people like you, ready to die politely and quietly in a corner, ready to forget to live and fight.