If this were truly World War III and you were holed up deep in the bunker, then in the realm of the hungry ghosts by Attrition might just be what it sounded like inside your head through all those long days and nights, waiting.

Waiting for?

The end, whatever the end means. That remains to be seen, doesn’t it? But this is a sort of psychedelic landscape, some regions more eerie and alien than others. It’s not territory that you’re used to traversing. You may have known it was there but out of fear, or even just a lack of real curiosity, you just left it all alone. Now in those same long days and nights you might be cut adrift in it, unable to anchor yourself in the familiar, so you went there. You just had to go there.

It’s never required that kind of isolation for me to go there. I’ve been more than willing and I’ve been back and forth so many times that I’ve formed relationships with the beings that dwell there, some just platonic, but some quite close. This is what they sound like sometimes.

Where am I today?

Just ask.