I live in a box. Daily I allow other boxes to touch mine. Most of them are totally useless. In spite of that, I let them be in my life. It’s called routine, what’s inside my box can barely be altered by all the crap coming from that persistent set of boxes. They choose and speak out about everything, they influence you, they want to change what you keep in your box. I know they won’t ever be able to do it. What I keep in my box is too precious to be touched. It’s no surprise that there are worlds that won’t ever collide. Or is it? Boxes are bubbles now. And they are getting smaller every day.