Lost in My World

I live in a little house in the desert. I live far out from all civilization, away from the people, the noise, crowds, and movement. Far from the crying, screaming, pain, and anguish my fellow mankind is faced with in the day-to-day. I live in a little cerulean blue house, the tackiest of all colors for a desert home; it sticks out like a sore thumb against the shadowed landscape. My little house is set far out in the midst of a vast and sparse valley. From my front yard I can see for miles in all directions. I can see the sun rise over the edge of the horizon in the cool of the morning and I can see the sun set behind the golden brown mountains at the end of each day. I can watch animals, wild and untamable as some believe myself to be, chase and kill, fight and fall. I walk around my home and collect the few bones that remain of what was earlier a whole being, a beautiful life. I live in a little house in the desert. From the window I watch as the shadows of unknown beings pass down the highway a mile from my home. The highway I despise more and more with each coming year, for I swore never to return to it, and its constant reminder of the past I have left haunts me day and night. The people I loathe even more. I cannot see them each individually, but I know that they laugh at me. I know that they point their fingers and tease, calling me a failure and an outcast, one who's perfect life could suddenly turn so pitiful and useless. I hate them. I live in a little house in the desert. I close my door and lock all my windows, shutting out the world and its cruel ways. I ran away many years ago, frightened yet living in the perfect knowledge of the path I should choose. I turned and walked the other way. I do not cry now. I do not fear. I close. I close doors. I close windows. I close my heart in bitterness and anger. This is all I know; this is all I will ever feel.
The sad part is, the lives they live out there are, in their own way, as pathetic and worthless as mine is. What cuts to the depths of my soul is that there is no one to warn them of the cruel dangers that inhabit my body and mind, now that I live in a little house in the desert.

(Inspired by Cowboy Jon on my very first horse ride yesterday :-)
Queen of the Cats