third_eye_blind raze i've decided to be russian for a while. i can't speak or understand the language. he doesn't know that. i have a key that lets me into a house that belongs to the woman he thinks of as a thing that's his. when he gets home, i make the back door my best friend and get the hell out of there as fast as i can without calling attention to myself. he sniffs me out from twenty feet away. asks if i've been here before. that's when i hit him with the east slavic-sounding gibberish. his face softens. he buys it, but he doesn't want me coming around. "stay out of my house," he says. i drop the act and tell him this house isn't his. just like the person who pays the bills isn't his either. that gets him off the porch and ready to beat me to a pulp. i pull out a gun. point it at the place his third eye would be. "if you ever touch her or the kids again," i scream, "i_swear_to_god." i wake up before i can finish the sentence, knowing god is as indifferent to my threats as every other thought that moves through me. 240913 what's it to you? who go blather from