14 August 2012

Dry Desert; 1

It's so dry here. It's so hot, too. Every time I breath in I feel like my nasal cavities are drying up like this desert floor. I think I feel a drop of blood coming from my nostril. Even that dries up before it can drip down. I hate this. It seems like even the desert plants are dying of thirst. It hasn't rained in years. I don't know why I'm still here. I guess probably because it's not much better in other parts of the country. Where we once had lush forests we hot sandy desert terrain. The forests all over New Mexico have all burned down long ago. Our once cool, forested mountain tops are all just hot, rocky peaks. Before this drought (drought is an understatement), New Mexico had it's share of desert. But it really wasn't true desert. This is the real deal. Before, the driest places in the states would at least have a stray thunderstorm in the summer. It's been over twenty years since the state's seen a monsoon storm.




It seems like New Mexicans and people in the Southwest in general have adapted a lot better than the rest of the country. We're desert dwellers. Some of our lands are somewhat used to the lack of water. Other parts of the country are fairing so well though. Parts of the Pacific Northwest are still burning. Just imagine all that fuel in dead trees. Our lungs have paid the price too. It's not really safe to go outside anymore due to the contaminated air. Most do anyway though. It's it's amazing how the country has suffered. There is no joy. There's really nothing to be joyful about. People don't have jobs. Most businesses have gone under, at least the small businesses. Walmart is still around. Walmart really dominates all business. Most people who are lucky enough to have a job work at Walmart. The rest of the unlucky folks have been forced into deep poverty. Poverty this country has never seen. And we're all stuck.



Today is an especially depressing day. Well, maybe not depressing, but thoughtful. I feel void. I feel alone. It's so hot. I haven't seen the blue sky in so long. I've almost forgot what it's like to wake up and breath cool, fresh air. This is not a life to live. But I keep hope. It's hard to keep hope.



Today, I'll go for a walk to keep my mind off things. I can't just sit here in this abandoned factory all week, it would be so easy for to do so.



I'll walk west. Why not? I'll walk in the middle of this vacant interstate highway. There aren't cars. Really strange to me. So quiet. Dust. Sand. My lungs hurt. The golden tint of the sky. Sometimes black. It smells like a campfire, with hints of burnt rubber. I wish this hot breeze would just stop. I'm so miserable. There's no life here... none...



All I want is relief. I guess I'll walk to the dry river bed that was once Rio Grande. I feel alone. I feel like weeping. I have to stay strong though. I have to keep hope. I stop on the my pace. I try to imagine what it was once like to gaze at the sunrise over the Sandias on a cool October morning. All I see is haze. Water is scarce, but I've got a drop in my canteen. I have to take a sip. My water reserves are running low for the month, and I'm going though my supply faster than normal. These walks are probably not helping. What's more important though? My sanity (what's left of it), or my physical body. I think I would rather be dead than waste away in that stupid abandoned factory! I hate it!



There's no shade at this river bed, but I like walking along it's former banks. I'll walk north from where I-25 once crossed over this river. The bridge is the only shade I have for now. I'll rest. Look at all this destruction. I remember the news coverage of the Bosque burning away. Now all that's left is sand and chard wood. I'll keep walking.



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