They keep looking at me. They’re blind, but their eyes still trouble me. I know what I’m doing is right. I don’t want the government to watch me. I’ve stolen three hundred street cameras. And they’re all arranged here, facing me. I sit here looking at them, and they look back without seeing.
I’m trying to turn their eyes back on, except they’ll look the other way. I sit and meditate everyday, praying for me to be able to spy on the government. I just have to find the right resonant frequencies for the cameras. They’ll live again, and they’ll be my slaves.
The government has launched an investigation in the disappearance of the cameras, but they will fall to my superior praying techniques. I know the government has footage of me lurking around the cameras. But before they find it, I will have attained televisual nirvana. I’ll look back at them, with all my six hundred eyes, and I will say, stop.