Feeling unappreciated by everyone, I exhibit myself, wandering around with a wooden frame around my body that makes me limp on my left leg and on which is written in white letters (a bit in the style of Ben), “I cannot frame it,” in the garden of the Villa Arson at lunch time – the time when everyone in the Villa meets in the cafeteria. This mere act of reading indicates the disdain in which a person holds me.