I was about six and sitting alone in my greek grandmothers basement in kansas city, MO. It was raining and we were waiting for sunday lunch to be ready. I was just starring at the old NES game system sitting on top of the tv, next to the filled up ash trays of my uncles who used the basement as a smoking den. I suddenly recall feeling this sense of time stretching out in front of me like an endless ribbon. I think in that moment I learned what loneliness and boredom meant.