Sun-bleached blues

My inhospitable scrap of soil is a strip gashed in barren brindle. If an artist wanted to spread the images that splash across my retina there would be little applications for any colors except black, tan, and drab grays. If color were transmuted into sound then my home would echo with a hard, grating lament.

The only refuge from the bare landscape is the sea of faded blue that spins overhead. The glinting ferocity of the sun thwarts anything more then a short gaze into the heavens, but occasionally that is all that is wanted to shatter the visual tedium of the desolate tract. In the last few days a bone dry wind has guaranteed that even meager shadows are lost.

Moving on commences as he files through her clothes saying it’s painful once in a while. He piles the treasures of her lifetime just inside the back door. It’s my birthday and the six month anniversary of her death. Placing them in the car; taking them away there is a small sense of loss. After all, the end of our relationship was nearly a decade ago and while I nearly died of sadness she never called, never came to soothe. The sorrow was immeasurable. That vanished half a year ago along with the guilt. All that is left is breakable anger and if there was not a concerted effort to pay no heed to it, to not plunge into it head first and live with it until life was nothing more than a frenzied reliving of hellish proportions then the very being of myself would be lost.

A friend looks upon a picture of me from her funeral and cries wishing that our sadness were the same. The rage opens its emerald eyes to gaze only to have a firm hand clasped over its mouth. "Everyone grieves differently." I reassure them.

I don’t know what is worse – the heat pushing like an infernal roar, or the loss of any inkling of hues. At first blush I would have to say the stream of shimmering heat that siphons liter after liter of perspiration. But the reality is they are rather evenly in step and loss is the only voucher of nature in this realm of grit that takes its own terrible toll. Maybe tomorrow the heat will die and the soft rumble of a blue-gray monsoon will erupt through the dirty film hanging over this ancient pueblo. We’ll see ...

Oh happy day.

Does anyone really know what makes a person happy? Yeah, yeah...chemicals and shit, right? It could be more than that, but I don't really care. I'm happy today.

No. I'm not fucking bi-polar. Maybe a little schizo, but not bi-polar. I'm not in love either. Shit! I don't even think I know anybody I could really love right now anyway!

I haven't eaten any tacos, so it can't be because I'm satiated (is that even a word?).

I look out my window and I see yellow grass being beaten to death by a hot lava sun. I see children playing pirates with sticks on their back patio. I see sprinklers going back and forth, back and forth, back and forth...

Suburbia doesn't make you happy. Being happy makes you happy.

Adding on to R's point about our government, its people and life here being absolutely fucked up, I can't agree more. She has very well articulated my thoughts and feelings towards this place. Fuck you if you're trying to pull me down to decay with you in your abyss. You can get married, pop babies and die in this wretched country but I'll do my darnest best to make sure I won't end up like you. Granted, it's a risk I'm taking but I'm hell as ready to take the plunge and go against the masses. Even if I end up alone and dead in Timbuktoo, I die happy. I'll only regret if I didn't start taking charge of my life soon enough, or ever.

Now that I've got priorities to focus on and goals to work towards to, I will not let anything thwart my plans. I will remove anyone who gets in my way. Boys, dating, sex, drugs and all that varsity jazz can kiss my ass.

To Do List
1) Get through university and graduate with a Bachelor's degree in European Studies.
2) Start my three-year savings plan.
3) Brush up on my Mandarin and be an effective trilinguist.
4) Make connections and find a job in the UK before 2009.
5) Disappear to the UK and live a eurotrash rockstar life.
6) Go to Glastonbury 2009!!!

R.I.P. Shine on You crazy Diamond.

Log in or register to write something here or to contact authors.