Tomorrow’s storm is supposed to freeze the whole state for a couple of days, it’s probably the coldest it will be for the last seven years. But tonight is particularly calm, I’m only wearing my UTEP sweatshirt and it feels warm enough. I worry for the animals that visit me, if and how they will be able to survive. What about the cat I see almost everyday? Maybe they’re too used to the desert weather and I am overestimating them, projecting my own inability to adapt to change even when survival is on the table.

The elephant did not roar a few days ago, but stomped its feet and the impact was noticeable until today, days after The Writer had crafted what he wanted to tell to the majestic creature. Because of this delay on the small earthquake the stomp caused, The Writer of course did not acknowledge it in the recollection of his adventures. Silly, but goes to show how inside of his shell he has been lately. There’s no doubt in his mind the air he’s breathing is fresher that the smell he thinks he loves. It is cleaner. The Writer finally remembers what it feels like to not have tar inside his lungs thanks to all the carcinogenic particles of whatever it is he thought he liked breathing.

Did I get used to my solitude? Or what changes exactly need to occur to feel like I am finally out of the erratic shell I would have liked to call home? I guess I have to keep working on being less cryptic, for my own sake. What exactly is inside my mind right now?

I see myself reflected on the mirror of hurt and push and pull, it makes me afraid of whatever is next and I cannot stop wondering if I will ever be ready again. If I’m too much to handle.

Ah, but tomorrow I will be covered in a blank canvas.



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bird held by fox’s teeth

bird held by fox’s teeth


every night i go outside to my little balcony with the hopes of seeing a shooting star and sometimes i do.