Sometimes rearranging the stack of DVDs to whom I entrust my frequent backups gives me unexpected things.
This draft of the poem, which now ritoccherei here and there but I like to play as it was, was in a file of notes dated September 8, 2004.
Sometimes I forget that I also worked on the other in the past. The information I have absorbed almost completely by 1997. That year, a passion born in the middle teens - my first program in GW Basic dating back to 1986 - has turned into my profession. Mixed blessing.
I should also tidy up my notes of semiotics. My photographs. But who gives me the time? Maybe you? No? Not even the few minutes that you need to read my thoughts so far?
Not only man living tips and tricks 
