I was Jake Gyllenhaal acting in a movie about a man who’d committed a murder in his youth and gotten away with it. This guy/Jake/I went on to get married and have a couple kids – and basically grew up and out of that murderous phase.
Well, thanks to the magic of DNA and Cold Case five-oh, this guy/Jake/I end(s) up getting caught and convicted of murder.
As my dream draws to a close, this guy/Jake/I get(s) put into a prison truck and hauled away, watching the wife and two kids from within the truck.
And the only thing that’s in this guy’s/Jake’s/my head is this dude I heard talking on GMA yesterday morning about how much nicer America’s prisons are nowadays. And the feeling in this guy’s/Jake’s/my gut is despair beyond the depths of Atlantis, a sadness so hard it hurt.
Melodrama at its finest.

But what I really want to say is that I’d like that guy from GMA to spend a week in the joint and come back talking about his pleasant stay.

Good day.