There’s a part in ‘A Scanner Darkly’ where Bob Arctor wakes up in the middle of the night and roams his empty black house, saying, “What happened? How’d I get here?”

“. . . ugly things, and surprising things, and sometimes little wondrous things spill out at me constantly, and I can count on nothing.”

Well: I have done this and have felt this way every night of my life for a decade now

The end