the longer i'm in new mexico, the more i realize that i need to get out of here.

i talked about it yesterday with david, about how horrible this place is, and we finally put a finger on exactly why. there's a sense of desperation, of giving up hope here. it's isolated--the nearest thing is always far away.

there's no renewal here, no sense of refreshement. there's no ocean to carry things out at low tide. there are no quiet rainstorms to wash away your malcontent. the wind blows shit in and then it settles, sometimes for weeks, even months. it's easy to become trapped by your own beliefs that you're never going to escape.

but not me. i'm not staying here. albuquerque will always be home, yes, but i don't like the way this state makes me feel. it makes you feel forgotten, abandoned. it makes you feel fried alive, sometimes. like there's nowhere to go but sideways. there's no variety here, because everything's the same. it's all brown and turquoise, all jade greens and dulled yellows. the sky here is so incongruant to everything else. it's the only thing that screams of life.

i need life. i need water, and trees, and tall buildings. i need rolling hills and low valleys. i need humid summers, the type that melt you into the couch and make you camp out under the air conditioner with a popcicle and your favorite book. i need peeling sunburns from days on the beach.

i need to leave here. i'm not saying that's it's going to be anytime soon. it may not happen for many months, but it's going to happen. i'm not trapped here. i'm not staying longer than i have to. there are only three things keeping me here: my brother, my mom, and david.

and david's portable, if i give him enough reason to be.