Is There Anybody Out There
“...I guess it’s like Bukowski said, 'The days run away like wild horses over the hills.' I don’t even know what day it is. To be honest, these days you don’t really keep track. It would be an exercise in futility, and you’d be driven all the madder for it. The act of living itself prolongs your suffering just enough to remind you that hell is a physical place. It’s real. It’s here, wherever 'here' is. This place used to have a name... Wisconsin, I think, back when we used to be a country with nice clean borders. No more borders, no more place names. No more Wisco. No more U.S. of A.
