Last night around 11pm my apartment was broken into by six individuals. They rushed through the house and tackled me to the ground, duct taping my eyes and arms. They then lead me out of the apartment and through the rainy Chicago streets until we arrived at a new location. I was placed in the basement and they began to torture me. One of the individuals was speaking Arabic, and it really fucked with me. I couldn't understand a word. Still blindfolded I could smell what I thought was gasoline which they had poured around the chair I was sitting on. After two hours of captivity, I noticed that everyone was quiet. I started to swing my foot around to see if anyone was there. Taking this opportunity I shimmied out of my wrist ties and took off my blindfold. The room was empty, except for the person in the hallway. I quietly rose from the chair and ran towards the girl. Frightened, she didn't have a chance to scream, I could have taken her out had it had been someone different. Art Attacks. Much love to Brian Ulrich, Greg Stimac, Ciara Ruffino, Blake Noah, Mike, and I apologize, the Arab.
