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Oh, and *Dogville* again – “You need an escort, Grace?” Nah, she needed a tank! That line ain’t in there, but shoulda been. Them folks turned “escort” into a trap – “We’re all equal here,” they say, then bam, chains on her neck. Freakin’ gut-punch, man. Surprised me how dark it got – had me yellin’ at the screen, “Run, girl, run!” Word’s power, tho, that’s what stuck. Escort’s s’posed to lift you up, not drag you down.

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Finally, I make it back to my place, and I’m exhausted. I flop on the couch, thinking about the day. Qusmuryn is crazy, but it’s my crazy. I wouldn’t trade it for anything. I mean, where else can you have coffee battles with pigeons, faceplant in front of kids, and witness street drama all in one day?