No Blickout

Thick smoke, the roar of gunfire, and a life where every morning begins with a new game of Tetris - only instead of blocks, it's other people's fates that are stacked on the field. There's no room for pathos here: the dirt of the streets, quick money, cries of “grrah-grrah,” and the constant feeling that tomorrow may never come. It's funny how easily hooligan bravado coexists with childish joy from skateboarding and dreams of London. It all sounds like the diary of a man who is used to keeping his finger on the trigger and his ear to the street at the same time.