some people used to say the  i barely listen the one who is talking to him because he starts to know him, just looking at him, which is more inteteresting and yet, always this separation with the others than him. They seem to be imagination, dream characters for him. he is always alone, not here, trying to be here. what else?  the uncesing presence of his death, his obsession of the reassuring order, the attraction of his death around 3 am the atraction of his failure too.