Every day. The same thing. Pain. Fear. Love, or obligation, whichever comes first Put on underwear. Put on pants . Shirt. Socks. Boots Tie them so tight that you hope that tightness can hold back the darkness of your soul and the horrible, relentless monotony of this life. The squirrel punches no time clock. The coyote knows only hungry and full. They don't bury their dead, and there is beauty in that. Every day. The Same Fucking. Thing.