Of course, like any formalization, there must be something to report on a file as propaganda for the public eye and thus having a scapegoat was unavoidable. People like me, single, alone, free of care, fragile and not in any group but always in a secret shell of anarchy, who couldn’t aff ord a better place than the dorm, was the most perfect scapegoat. But there wasn’t much to take away from me, other than a cheap pan, a cheap pot and some cheap bowls, cheap plates. When everything was taken, the depression started to poison me. I began to hate the look of the dorm, the time of staying indoors and the rule of everything.