We live in normality made to measure, almost in our image and likeness. We take continuous steps, in the same line; sometimes we get out of it, but it ends up being a simple and passing deviation, almost a mischief. And we continue in the lane. Our rebellion, most of the time, is nothing more than a song without truth, or simple sound and fury, as Shakespeare and Faulkner said. Greetings, Hive account@zentalk.