The clothes hanging on the foldable rack dangle: socks, shirts underwear, and t-shirts. The pile that awaits to be loaded into the washer keeps nameless pieces of cloth- just a pile. The people you read about whose faces dangle in front of your screen and on the billoards outside, you can name: First name Last name, Jane Doe and John Doe, Maria Lopez y José Lopez. The people you walk besides, the crowd keeps nameless - just a crowd. But if you would turn and smile even while wearing your mask you'd know that there is no such thing as a “just a ______” and the soliloquy of life would become a fully staged production where you could be writer.