This is the real problem. Every time you open a book, listen to a song or switch the TV on, there is always some idiot telling the whole world all about how they wouldn’t want to change anything in their past because their past is the reason they are what they are today. I for one know that this is bullshit, and I hereby vow to look after the strain of any scientist who invents a time machine that would take me as far back as needed to make things right. I believe that the first problem that would arise is to identify the points in one’s life where one believes things have gone wrong, ultimately leading to one being the way they are today; say, wretched and with enough caution to always make sure there’s enough whiskey to pass the night. First thing I’d do after hanging up the phone with the person who’s informing me I’ve been selected to be the first passenger of a time machine, is that I would go back to my room, change into something more comfortable, and sit down to think about these points in my life where I believe a little deviation could cause me to become someone better in the future. What would I change?

Probably everything except for falling in love every single time I did. There can’t be anything wrong about falling in love with her. I also wouldn’t change anything from that night in 2003 at the end of which I had a fight with my father and left the house in Alexandria for the first time. I still stand by everything I said to him. I also would make sure I kept intact every little detail from the lives of my mother and my friends who fell along the way and whose dust rises with the wind to sting my eyes; I would savor every color, sound, scent and shadow; these details are the fabric from which I am woven. In fact, if I had enough fuel in that time machine, I would keep on going back there again and again. I would visit it like a temple.