Rome in the 1980s. Unbelievable landscapes in the deserted city follow one after the other, lacerated by advertisements, current news deprived of meaning, along with images of vacations. There is a voice to guide us in this desolate Rome, where no tourist would dare tread, the voice of the narrator. Without any true chronology, without any qualms, we discover bit by bit the implacable reality of a young homosexual's life, a linear chronicle with sex and drugs as the only perspective. The obsessive and precise tale of general indifference, successive sincerity and withdrawal. Images, sounds, and voices combine in a fragile collage that is both blunt and radical. Although this account, pessimistic to the point of asphyxiation, seems to offer no exit, one needs to know how to read between the shots: Far from Berlusconi and the drug dealers, another film hovers, a film about love.