Zolan was not stupid, and he knew that if it was easy to write, it was not that easy to be published. Even in creating an account on Medium, he would be a ghost for weeks, if not for months. He needed to find a way to attract readers as fast as possible. He needed to find something to say that everyone could relate to. He had to tell a story everyone would like. He had to tell what happened to him and his beard. I suppose everything started 18 months ago. It started in Miami, Florida. It started like in a movie. Too often, movies are memorable for only one scene. And this only scene has nothing to do with the main plot. Nevertheless, that’s its only originality. On the 7th of June 2014, Zolan woke up early and went to the beach. It was 8 A.M. when he heard: This is my house! This is my fucking house! 19 years on the same spot! 19 fucking years, you mother fuckers!