Saturday, September 17, 2011


Last night I watched a movie about Britain’s most dangerous prisoner. I thought it would be funny because British accents are so funny. Mostly, though, it was depressing with lots of blood and dark rooms, and just a few funny accents.

I didn’t want to be depressed - I just thought I might have good dreams if I saw something like this, because my brain would do its best to make up for it. It didn’t, though. I had dreams where nothing happened at all.

Dream after dream after dream. Mostly I was just standing in a room making little circles with my feet. Sometimes I was looking out a window at a grey building. Other times I would be cleaning a glass with a green sponge.

I felt like America’s least dangerous prisoner.

There was only one other guy in all these dreams and he just kept walking by my door. Every time he did he told me that my accent was funny.

I told him that his accent was funny, too.

He looked scary, dangerous.

He said: “I am your best friend in the whole world!”

I said: “OK!”

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