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When i turn off the television (99% of the time)...

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Change the channel... The room is slowly filling up with thick green marajuana smoke crunchy noise pop playing on the stereo, sunlight filters into the room through long lace curtains. "I'm telling you Abdhul, it is out of my hands! It is not in God's will that it be made so..." The room starts to shrink; growing colder a breeze moves in silently through the open window. The curtains are gnashing teeth. Change the channel... Silver glint of a dagger, deadly sharp, vicious comfort in the afternoon sunlight, Jane stabs two men in the back on her way out of the compound, moving as fast as she can through the open expanse of grass. Gunshots echo around the streets and she runs faster; adrenaline burning through her legs and feet; heels of her boots launching her further and further into the air. She moved with supreme confidence, backed by her suprising speed and agility, and she manages to escape into the heart of the city; narrowly avoiding the firing squad by a few small almost breatheless moments. Change the channel... Squatting in abandoned delapidated houses by the side of interstae highways smoking expensive little bags of weed with bored service station attendant we jack each other off in the toilets three in the morning he has red hair and tattoos of green dragons swimming around forearms tells me "I love this town this job." passing me his short browned pipe smiling into the freezing night winds... Change the channel...

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