Thread:Jangles9/@comment-39746027-20191030021122/@comment-31332550-20191206025656

I was in london. I was in London walking down a foggy street where the only company you got was puddles and and clouds that seemed to close you in and make you feel as if you are suffocating under  the heaviness they cary within them. I looked up at them and all I can think about it when they will burst and let everything flow out like a dam breaking somewhere in arizona next to some town any town just not Pheonix. I could not stand it anymore- next think you know I am on the next flight to france my origins. Flying in an airplane makes you face alot of things without the privlige of being able to run from them, you think alot while flying and I knew just what I would do when I landed. It landed. I grabbed my sh*t and left that airplane off into the streets of France where your lunges didn't collaspe under the humidty in the air like they did in London. I walked into a small corner store where the only person but me was the 50 something year old white cashier and some french lady buying cigarrettes and milk, I followed her steps with the first item. I approached the cashier slowly we locked eyes for a split moment before reaching my hand into my pocket where I pulled out a dollar and placed a penny on it. I slid the cash so hard that it went right over the counter causing him to lean down to pick it up- I booked it. Running after commiting a crime gives you a certain adrenaline rush you wouldn't experience other wise: especailly not in London.