Here's a helpful hint: There are no helpful hints. At least, that's my idea of a TV show. Your soul is a broken Dorito and you are a flightless bird, sleeping but fitfully, always on yr last wing. No matter who holds yr hand & weeps over you, watering the pitiful victory garden of yr face, you will die alone--no one to take yr place in that ultimate form of homelessness which the politicians call "death." Don't fool yourself, you're not even worth the admirable struggle for money you've put up.
All ambulances are like jobs, drugs, and tire-sealant-temporary-fixes. Imagine a world in which a castrated bull licking a NASA rocket in the shape of a dildo isn't funny anymore. Now imagine you are that castrated bull and the NASA dildo-rocket is the belief you are not living in such a world already.