A few days ago, while I was coming back home after a running, I heard a music, just few notes on a piano, coming out from a window. I did not stop, but the music was high enough to be heard till the end of the street. The music was beautiful. I felt like Vinz and Hubert in the movie “La Haine” when, walking through the streets of their banlieue, they start listening to the remix of Edith Piaf’s hit “Non, je ne regrette rien” by Dj Cut Killer spread in the air. I have no idea what that music was. I had nothing with me but an ordinary wristwatch. No smartphone. No apps. No tablet. That song just lasted the time of the street. And there is no way I will ever find out the name of that song. And that makes it even more beautiful. More unique. Today with Shazam we can find out the name of a song in a few seconds. With Spotify we can listen to it immediately and with any MP3 download program, we can make it ours forever. Everything in just the time of a song or even less. We hear it. We have it. And in all this, we lose the beauty of imagination. The beauty of lack. The beauty of the moment. We are moving toward to a system where everything is now. Where everything is planned. Wanted. And we’re losing the wonder of the amor fati. The wonder of the event. When the most beautiful part is not having but being able to imagine having.