I drive down the road with the radio off. The radio is a luxury you listen to when you have a half tank of gas, and when your mind isn't swimming with dreadful possibilities. I turn the AC off to conserve my remaining fuel. The hot wind blows into the truck like a heater on an already miserable day. I'm just trying to make it home. Just trying to make sense of the last few weeks. I worry and fret about things completely out of my control, and frankly, I'm hurt. I'm hurt on several levels. I am hurt by the universe, and it's cruel, indifferent decisions. I'm hurt about the way things are and could be. I guess life really is just random bullshit happening to all of us with no regard to how it affects us. It's really inconsiderate; this thing called life.