Can I be unearthed? Am I really down there? If I'm not, then where am I? They say it's not all about me, but I am the only one I am. Still, let's say it's not about me, what would I do with myself then? Can't really get rid of me, can I? And if it's not about me, then about whom?
Headphones to the rescue. The TV will stay out, but the music will drape the pregnant silence. World music. As opposed to Mars music? Hmmmm... That may very well be the ticket. Head into space. The space between me and the world.