BY
VAJ
POTENZA
BAD
MOON
They don't know me. As I
tear down the street, body
tucked, eyes streaming
tears, mind on fire, I'm
nothing more than a blur to
them, an unfamiliar concept
screaming into the darkness. I
can feel them watching and
listening from the comfort of their
warm, well-lit homes. They thrive on
being able to see and comprehend
their environment. They can do
neither with me and that scares them.
When the sun goes
down the warriers
come out to play,
Frankie Hill (left)
Doug
gight)
from the
flects
pitch block of
RISING
AN ADVENTURE
INTO
NIGHT
SKATING
34. Тисление Маслен
Pro-tec