It glowed against the white mask, made it brighter, made it stand out from the minimalist backdrop. Simple, bold of words masked by a mechanical voice. A vision all its own, a vision with only one face with a million bodies. One face, one mask that may seem a prop to some, but symbol to most, a statement itself, not a relic. And some will say it is spoken words that are hiding behind a computer screen, those who say are those who seldom take to the streets to see. That those faces on the computers account for little of the population, there are those without the knowhow of such technological skills, and they, and I, are the physical minds, the daring, the freestylers, the bleeding hands with open minds, to wear this mask, this face, is not hiding behind it, it is celebrating it.