I'm bringing it all in for the home crowd. I'm reeling the thoughts back to the boat for all you men who dream of spending a day in the summer sun fishing. I'm trying to make sense of it all. I suddenly realized (last week? last year?) that nothing in this life is real to me anymore.

I used to believe in voting, in politics, in one vote/one voice. Now I realize by the time my vote trickles up, what is already trickling down won't affect me at all. It doesn't matter. Would there be a difference between Dole and Clinton in the White House? Not much. I'm sure there would be a difference for the cooks and housing staff. Different dietary needs. But it's not like there is going to be much difference in the way they govern--if it is really governing anyway. Maybe the president is just another patriotic totem pole like the stars & stripes or the "Star-Spangled Banner." But is the president real? Is it something I deal with on a daily basis? No, he's just some guy who's really sad when bad things happen and very happy when he has a good meal.

I used to think movies and TV shows were fairy tales. They showed an alternative to the boring lives we lead. They were places where something always happened. And suddenly it was all so real. Independence Day wasn't science fiction--it could really happen. Twister wasn't fantastical, it was horribly frightning. Striptease was...well, I didn't actually see it, but I've been naked before. I can totally understand where Demi Moore is coming from.

I used to think the news was real. Now I read about explosions and pipe bombs and airplanes falling out of the sky. It was a surface-to-air missle, it was a bomb in a suitcase, the fat rent-a-cop did it. And the Olympics. I watch the Olympics and don't even understand why these people are doing these things. Bob Costas tells me the Olympians are real people, but have you seen them? It's as if they are inhuman spectacles striving for breakaway velocity to the moon. I watched Michael Johnson run and thought that if he just jumped he would start to fly and never have to worry about gravity again. They cry because they get a medal. They cry if they don't get a medal. I don't understand these emotions at all. Why is it that important? Should I be crying? I don't even have a wedding ring. And I'm 25 (soon to be 26).

I can't relate to people anymore. They all seem monstrously insane. They are all doing things that have nothing to do with me and no one seems to wonder how I feel about all of this. What happened to caring and compassion? What happened to my life? Did I die and just not realize it?

So maybe I've got to get back to basics. I've got to ground myself. I've got to have a bit more human contact. People said graduating from college was a bitch, but I thought they were kidding. I thought they were just trying to scare me. I didn't go to classes for 20 years of my life to get a waitress job at less than minimum wage so I could flirt for tips.

So I've got to shut up now. MTV's Real World V is on. Watching that show is like what watching sit-coms used to be like. It's a fairy tale. This whole life is just so unreal. Maybe someone mixed the colors wrong. Maybe I've done too many drugs to figure out what sober is anymore. Maybe the whole trick to this life thing is to finally realize that it doesn't mean anything--it's just a big joke. Maybe I need to find the guy who's laughing.

Lisa Black is a rogue reporter for Lies Magazine. If she lives anywhere in particular at any given moment, she lives in Seattle.