How did it get this bad? It's time to admit that I have a serious problem. I'm Outside. It started out innocently as a kid. Something to break the monotony of being cooped up. I'm sure many people have had their mothers say "Why don't you go out and get some fresh air?" Little did I know that the addictive seeds were forming with each virtuous step. How did it get this way? I have no idea, but I can't come back inside now.

It's 4:20 in the morning, and my alarm goes off. Without thinking, I get up and go outside. Drive outside through the streets in a cab, making a living cruising through the quadrants of Albuquerque. My left arm soaks up more sun than the rest of me. Like my ancestors, my neck glows from the bright attention. Jokes aside, you really know you're a redneck when your neck is red. Twelve hours a day, two or three days a week, all outdoors in the bright yellow Crown Victoria. Making money and feeding an addiction at the same time.

I get the call from my acting gig to be part of a mass casualty exercise. Great! I love getting paid to act like I'm dying. Bussed out to a fire academy, I'm moulaged and prepped for despair. Sitting in the shade of a white van, I'm exactly where I am on my cab days: outside. There's my best buddy, Mr. Sun. Didn't I hang out with you yesterday? As Egyptian policemen try to figure out what's wrong with me (shattered ribs have punctured my lungs and I'm near death), they triage me, drag me around and drop me off on a tarp as the sun glows on my damaged body. Even Egyptians realize I need immediate attention. After the exercise, some of the actors decide to meet for lunch at El Patio. Sounds like a good idea to me. It takes me a few moments after we arrive to realize we will be sitting on the patio. Outside? Oh no, don't they realize I have a problem? Look at my brown face! Everyone is helping me feed the monkey!

Okay, it's not a cab day, and it's not a acting day. I can finally do what I want. Man, a bike ride would be nice. Get some exercise. That will do me some good. Feet in pedals, and I'm cruising around. Wait, I feel something familiar. Is it...yes! I'm outdoors again. Keep pedaling. Maybe I can outbike it. Mr. Sun has spotted me again. No mercy for the junkie. Can't fight it. Don't know how to fight it. Just keeps happening.

What's that smoke? The Bosque is on fire! The fresh air is now smoke. I knew even the outdoor air would turn against me. Teenage kids playing with fireworks outside down by the river. People do goofy things when they're on the outside. Don't people know what crazy things happen to those who go outside? Get out of there! Get out of the outside before you hurt yourself and others.

Fine, I'll just relax and cook myself something to eat. What do I have? Hamburger, bratwurst, salmon. Heck, looks like I'm grilling. Light the fire, stir the coals, pop on the meat, and wait a minute! What am I doing? No, no, no, not again. No walls. No boundaries. I'm outside. I can't even feel the cravings coming anymore. I'm hooked. Out, damn doors, out!

Okay, I've got food. I'm indoors. It's okay. Calm down, come down. You can kick this. You've got willpower. Read the newspaper. It will be okay. What's that? Weapons of Mass Destruction are still missing. What a crock! Tax cuts for everyone but the working poor? Poop. How big is the deficit? Jeez. You know, when it comes to the government, I really feel like I'm...oh no, it can't be. It just can't be. I mean, I'm in my living room. How can I be OUTSIDE the government? Will it never end?

Religion...away from the flock.
Consumerism...far from the crowd.
Sobriety...out to lunch.

I can't fight it anymore. I'm outside, even when I'm inside. I have a problem. I can't stay inside the box. I'm outside the lines. I'm in the outer limits. I've got an outward crutch. I need inner help. I can't even seek help because it's out there. Don't you see, it's all out there!

Chris Jungle is way out there.