The gutter-grey life of besmirched streets and tedious routines just aint for everyone, hell, some people have just gotta be their own last great adventure, kick ordinaries in the teeth with both feet and give into their addiction to private anarchy. At least that’s where Tallahassee’s hunger erupts. His bleak future plagued by monotony and ugly with capitalism, a life he doesn’t want. In fact the bastard wants out of that life so bad his veins shake and shake under the flow of adrenaline, so much that the shiny cuffs of a humdrum existence just snap and drop away.
Without a plan Tallahassee arrived in Antigua on a cheap- flight whim, his eyes instantly wrenched opened like two earthquakes ripping through the soft ground. His reason for running off lies in the desirous search for more, his soul set on an impulsive life where every heartbeat pounds his chest like the drums before war. He’s a wolf, set on a journey away from the beaten tracks and well away conformity, his shedded naivety desperate to be submerged in a epoch of risky undertakings and absolute exploit. An unstable lust that first finds him when The Crossing is proposed, and with it the rush of the unknown, an enlightening thrill no one can truly run from, the ecstasy of adventure so taught across Tallahassee’s lungs that the white fangs of the big blue carve themselves as little more than the beginning of a mad, mad journey, a kismet for the ones mad to live.