The Devil in the Desert

A journal entry asking myself, "Am I brave enough to be an honest writer?"

I gave up on this world and found myself. Trudging through each day expecting to wake from a mediocre dream. White-knuckling the road to nowhere. Cursing the scenery, but afraid to veer left or right. My hands cramped. My heart yearned. The yellow dashes punched under me like Morse code.

S.O.S.

I pulled over and set the car on fire. Figured it was my last chance to walk away. No turning back. I felt the air for the first time. The edges of the road became less of a blur. Life slowed.

At this speed, I came face to face with reality. Naked. Honest. Brutal. Scathing introspection. The devil in the desert, hot breath in my face. So many people lost on cruise control.

What became immediately clear is that I'm the cause of all my f**k-ups. Not fate. Not destiny. Not the unfairness of the world. Standing still, the world is suddenly beautiful. Raw. Abundant. I spent all this time wondering if it was right for the world to be using me. Now, I stand with a handful of red clay in my fist. Would it be right of me to use the world? Is the world there to be used?

Amazing how I had to close my eyes to find them truly open. My thoughts- suddenly faster than my feet can travel. Dizzy in the desert heat. Is it real? If I choose it to be. The clay molds to my grip.

Wandering. Racing circles of delirium. All the possibilities, too much to bear. Focus. Thoughts shimmer and distort like a mirage.

I slept again, unsure if this clarity was liberating or a crushing weight. Perhaps my mind and body are not ready for this?

Author's Note

I'm trying to stretch my output from brief poems to longer stories. But I keep putting myself into the story and it becomes preaching. Or devolves into emo introspection. I need to figure out how to avoid these pitfalls, and find out where my introspection fits best.

There's a story in my head somewhere with a desert highway setting. But the setting is too personal, too close to my muse, and I keep tripping over myself as I explore it.