flow of images destined to vanish in the indifference of daily scrolling, this book presents itself as an act of subtraction, a gesture against the current. The photographs gathered within do not aspire to tell a story, nor to construct a recognizable narrative: they are shots born without intention, images captured in the most insignificant moment, when there was nothing to see and no reason to photograph. And it is precisely in this absence that their power is revealed. Made with a smartphone—inseparable companion and prosthesis of our intermittent attention—these images bear witness to an automated, almost reflexive gesture: the simple act of taking a picture, independent of any aesthetic or narrative purpose. Black and white, far from being an embellishment, becomes a way to subtract further noise, to isolate the superfluous and give it new weight. These photographs seek neither beauty nor recognition: they ignore the rules of composition, refuse the subject, embrace error, imperfection, the wrong framing. They are images that exist only in their fleeting "during," mute witnesses to the compulsive gesture of recording the world even when it offers nothing to record. To print what was born to be ephemeral is an act of silent rebellion: an invitation to look at the invisible, to linger on the irrelevant detail, on the margin, on the discard. In a visual landscape increasingly guided by algorithms, performance logic, and the search for consensus, this book restores dignity to nonsense, to banality, to emptiness. It transforms the gratuitous gesture into a necessary gesture, almost liberating. Leafing through these pages means pausing the hypertrophic rhythm of contemporary images and allowing oneself a space of pure observation, free of expectations. These photographs, apparently useless, instead reveal their most authentic nature: they capture a way of being in the world, they bear witness to a distracted presence, an intermittent perception, a form of freedom that resists precisely in the refusal to want to mean something. This book is an intentional paradox, a collection of images that do not want to be remembered, but which for this very reason remain. A visual reflection on our relationship with looking, with the photographic gesture, with the necessity—perhaps the most contemporary one—of fixing time even when it serves no purpose.