Don�t tell my sister about your most recent vision. Don�t tell my family�they�re all wicked-strict Christian. Don�t tell the hangers-on, don�t tell your friends. Don�t tell them we went down to Ybor City, again. Don�t tell the dancers, they�ll just get distracted. Don�t tell the DJs. They already suspect us. Don�t mention the bloodshed, don�t mention the scams. Don�t tell them Ybor City almost killed us, again.      We are the theatre, they are the people�dressed up to be seated, lookin� upwards and dreamin�. We�re the projectors. We�re hosting the screening. We�re dust in the spotlights�we�re just kinda floating.      Don�t drop little hints. I don�t want them to guess. Don�t mention Tampa, they�ll just know all the rest. Don�t mention bloodshed, don�t tell them it hurts. Don�t say we saw angels, they�ll take us straight to the church. They queue up for tickets to see the performance�they push to get closer, lookin� upwards with wonder. We are the actors. The cameras are rollin�. I�ll be Ben Gazzara, you�ll be Gena Rowlands.      Sometimes, actresses get slapped. Sometimes, actresses get slapped. Sometimes, fake fights turn out bad. Sometimes, actresses get slapped. Some nights, makin� it look real might end up with someone hurt. Some nights, it�s just entertainment, and, some other nights, it�s real.      They come in for the feeding, to sit in stadium seating. They�re holding their hands out for the body and blood, now. We�re the directors�our hands will hold steady. I�ll be John Cassavettes�let me know when you�re ready. Man, we make our own movies. Man, we make our own movies. Man, we make our own movies. Man, we make our own movies.