Dear Diary

Dear Diary,

Day 1 

Under the blaze and the clouds of deep gray; i find myself 

astray. Deep in the canyon range of great rock, i find myself without 

a clock. 

But wait, 

I do have one;

I have the sun, it hovers over me all day. 

High peak it is at, beating down are harsh rays, I’m in my natural habitat. 

Wandering long and wide I have to pause and step aside, 

because the view of what I see;

a red rock river sea, 

stopped the beating of my heart, and my brain had to restart, because nature’s art and 

the colors in the sky, could make a grown man cry, and I did. 

A tear fell from my eye like a little kid. 

But as would yours had you saw what I was seeing;

how lucky I felt to be a human being. 

To be well fed, and taken care of so well I had the capability to be aware of

the world around me. 

I was given the opportunity to use my eyes,

a sense most people paralyze.

Which is something I never quite understood,

your sight is the firewood to the flame,

so to not keep an open frame? Is something 

I just never understood. 

The flaring red and orange layered formation, 

was a regal rock figuration.

The layers of rubble and slab embed much history; 

what these rocks have seen is a mystery, I wondered about.

Witnessed so much, yet stands still in grand silence,

 the upward jutting rocks I find an act of defiance.

The pillars bulged whatever way; when looking down the canyon straight, 

they create an archway over this river. And while

it is just a sliver, it adds life to the scene. 

The water was jade green, and rushing rapidly;

I stood there vapidly gaping in awe, how this scenery

didn't have a flaw. 

The view blew my mind into an utter bliss, a temporary 

dismiss to my compulsive thought. 

 The sunset only lasted a short time, so I decided I would start my climb,

to the top of one of the peaks. But was adventure what I seek? 

or did I need to just get away? But even if so, I think that’s okay. 

I walk my mind in hope it gets tired, a distraction to me is always required. 

When lost in a ponder, I tend to drown, 

so I venture in the fresh air, far away from the towns.

The sun has been gone, so the air became frigid;

with no mercy the wind blew, its manner quite rigid. 

When I inhaled the breathe burned,

with each exhale the pain returned. 

But I never stopped my march, 

I kept going. 

Still the wind just kept blowing;

I couldn't feel my dripping nose, nor my fingers, or my toes. 

They ached with every heavy stride, but my drive helped me abide. 

Until I couldn't go on any longer,

and my exhaustion grew stronger, so I stopped.

And I swear the temperature dropped even more, thus I put 

down my load and lied on 

the dusty stone floor, and I closed my eyes. 

Day 2

    I shivered myself out of my slumber;

I didn't know the wind wouldn't encumber, or I would 

have brought another jacket. I should've 

packed it but I was in a rush to escape the crushing pressure of living. 

And how unforgiving it is when 

you cant conform to the herd, to challenge and stand 

lone 

is completely absurd. 

But I think the herd is mostly wrong in their ways;

what behaviors they decide to praise, 

like the sheep that act like pigs, or the 

sheep that act like wolves.

I find it quite bizarre that they cannot accept who they are; 

they're sheep. And to say otherwise ceases your ability to internalize, 

making you weak. 

But if ignorance is what you seek, then welcome to the flock.

Where to talk is to get mocked, and your born to work for days. You're 

a worker bee in the hive,

so you better learn the ways, I never did. 

After my morning monologue, I ate breakfast to the rising sun; 

an apple, and a honey bun; 

a sandwich for dessert.

I changed my dirty shirt, in exchange for another 

just as dirty, but dry. 

Because the heat had intensified and I 

was sweating, and because it was I was kind of 

regretting this hot destination I chose to explore.

But I rose from my squat and I forged ahead, deeper into the canyon of red. 

I walked along the edge of the river, listening to the splash 

and clash of the rush. 

Followed by a gush of wind through my hair, 

and the smell of heat coating the air, but I

liked it and while i’ll admit I usually hated the sun, today it was no bother. 

I examined the river’s ways, dipping my feet in, barely.

 Slipping in rarely soaking my whole shoe, making the fabric squish

when I stepped, 

and I wouldn't have minded except now my socks were

wet. 

The day was spent in a constant sweat, but went by fast.

I covered a mass amount of land, 

with just a water bottle in my hand and my backpack along side. 

I dried up in the heat; my sun burn didn't feel too sweet on my skin. 

But the sunset had just started to begin, and i was excited, ignoring the pain. 

Another scene of pleasing paints that were melted into the sky, i had 

no complaints. 

Climbing up boulders to achieve a better view; a frisky 

little rock grabbed ahold of my shoe, and it twisted.

All I heard was a crack and my body fell back; I tumbled to the ground, after making 

an odd squawking sound.

I felt woozy, like I was boozy, but I think I just hit my head.  

A rush of dread overwhelmed me as my ankle pulsed 

so intensely with pain.

There was blood leaking from my brain, I noticed as it dripped over my eye. 

The pain begun to magnify as I was starting to adjust to the

misfortune of events. 

I still didn't manage to make sense of my entity, so I moved on to my 

 extremities so I could try and stand up. 

With my right hand holding my head wound I brought my self to a sit; my 

swollen ankle that no longer fit in my shoe was the next hurdle I faced. 

I unlaced my sneaker just enough to let the blood flow, but the size of my 

foot started to grow; how would I get out of here? 

The fist clenching ringing in my ear made it quite hard to hear, which was a 

distraction in itself, but I hoisted myself up and started to crawl ever 

so slowly down the rocky hill.   

My one able foot reached while then my hands followed, my 

need for survival overtrumped, my distress I had to swallow. 

Blood was coating my face, seeping into my lips, 

all I could taste was the iron.

I placed my hands very cautiously on the rocks for I couldn't have another fall. 

My hands, they looked so small, but my mind was telling lies; 

I was seeing counterclockwise, I must have been concussed. 

Not being robust enough anymore to make it down just yet, I set 

myself up for a break. 

My body started to violently shake listening to the night sitting so 

silently, when did it get so dark?

But it wasn't all that dark, just the background was black. There wasn't a lack of 

light for the stars shimmered and the moon was glowing the sky. 

It occupied my mind, looking up at the crescent, distracting me from my limb which 

was unnaturally bent. 

I wrapped my old shirt around my swollen laceration, when I heard a pack on migration. 

AhoooooooOOOOOO.

What a liberating cry.  

The rocks amplified their song of pursuit, 

I listened willingly, until all had gone mute. 

The moon was smiling down my way, 

but was it a smile? He didn't quite say. 

He looked almost mischievous with a face so stained 

and wrinkled, but his eyes ingrained something I couldn't quite

explain. He looked at me intensely so I returned the glare, leading to a slight fizzle of tension in the air. I was distracted,

by how attracted I was to the moons energy.

 I didn't know I could attain a positive perspective on the night,

after what had happened tonight.

Silence ensued, until something started being pursued, eyes of 

red came from below. Slowly they came creeping through the crust, I was being

stalked. 

My legs locked, I couldn't move; but my vision began to improve as my body 

started to flood with adrenaline.  

They were hunting for blood, and I was glazed.  

These crazed pack of coyotes were barely skin and bone, 

yet they dared to dethrone me, though I was sickly.  I quickly became 

filled with fear as more red eyes appeared. 

I tried to retreat backwards, slowly crawling up onto the rocks, but quicker than a fox I made a wrong move and they attacked. I had no time to react; the teeth sunk in, 

so easily, ripping apart my skin. 

My screams rolled through the wind completely unheard, 

The stag sheep safe away from the herd, was not from the carnivores.