Colorado isn't just mountains

It's dust upon dust upon poor railroad towns

Straight roads for days and few people around

Those that are there- well they're tied to the ground

And keeping their cattle and sheep safe and sound

I once went a-driving out there in that land

Just hoping to see if the wonders it holds

Were true and something I could see at hand

And not just plain legends that I had been told

So driving I was on that warm summer day

A right angle turn, atlas told me to take

An hour or so made me get out and pray

For those piles of sand were not of earthly make

In short, Great Sand Dunes National Park comes out of nowhere and imprints itself on your mind for a lifetime.

"Why're all those cows so dirty colored?"

"Oh those cows? They're tannish because they make chocolate milk."

"So where are the pink strawberry cows?"

"Hush child, we don't have strawberry cows here. Only those brown cows mostly."

"But in my farm book I saw black and white cows! Do they make cookies 'n cream milk?"

"No, they just make regular milk. The spots come off when they pasteurize the milk."

"I guess those cows are gettin' pasture-ized right now, ain't they?"

"I guess so."

...

"What's that awful smell?"

"Oh that? Why... that's just yucky cow farts. They smell worse when they're all packed together. But they have to get all packed so the farmers can milk them."

"Those cows don't have udders though. And come to think of it, none of them other brown cows do."

"Well now, different cows have different sized udders. Just cause you can't see 'em don't mean they're not there."

"Oh all right then."

The boy leaned back into his car seat, gazing out the window. His mother wiped away a tear as they left the killing fields of Texas behind. But money was money and profit was profit, and had she told him the truth, he'd never forgive his father for what he does to those poor chocolate milk cows.

I watch and see

My friends, who be

Depressed and sad

For 'tis the fad

To smother emotions in thick dark cloth

To suffer the pain and not feel the wroth

Until they write

And like a kite

Their feelings rise

Under the guise

Of self-discovery, but really it's just

Seeing the light and shaking the dust

Their long-lost feelings suddenly come

And the awful numbness decides to go home

Once there was a duck who was out about the town. She decided to walk into a bar, at which point a crafty bear saw an opening for a joke.

"DUCK" yelled he, at which point she turned and enquired why he would yell such a thing. "You were about to walk into a bar!" said the guffawing bear.

"Hmmph. I would have preferred more quality," harrumphed she.

At which point a koala rose and demanded why she was drinking tea made of his relatives.

"You insult people with most efficiency." said the bear, enjoying the havoc he had created.

"Fish-in-sea? Why not fish-on-land? Or indeed fish-in-space! We needn't decide the fate of others based on species," interjected a fish, having heard no context.

At this point, bear, fish, koala and duck were facing each other with remarkable aggravation. Eventually the duck sighed and said "This is simply unbearable. Let's have a round of drinks," leaving all parties satisfied except the bear, who wondered why he should be deemed un-able to enjoy this somewhat pleasing solution to their tiff.

I love my life, yet wish it could change

But children are kept in school overlong

So I peek through the bars of my crystalline cage

Seeing the light of a future diffracting

When I can seize time

When my life is mine

I love to explore the city in which I live via running. Because of this activity, I have found nooks of woods right next to busy interstates. I have brought life to graveyards and seen the sun rise and set. Although I never really feel like going running, and most days it feels like a chore, I always feel happier having gone outside and being around other people while bettering myself.

Some days are better than others of course. Today, for instance, was a lovely temperate day, rare for January. However I have been in 35 degree weather in nothing but a thin vest, T-shirt and shorts. I have run in 95 degree weather wearing the same outfit, minus the vest. To know that I will be fine regardless of weather is a heartening thing.

To be sure, I am not objectively that good at running. However, I have improved so much over the past two years. Now I can run a 5K at a sub-30 pace without stopping for a walk, whereas then I couldn't even run half a mile without panting and doubling over. The self-improvement that I've seen in myself coupled with the excuse to go outside for about 30 minutes a day makes running, to me, well worth the effort.

Very beautiful, the shopkeeper said

As I picked up the

Last skein of silk.

Everyone who wears this will find love, she told me.

Not that you need help, she said, glancing at my diamond ring.

Too bad that it's a fake meant to keep away the men

I never want to see again

Never did I think that I would walk into another ball

Ermine clashing with the garish silk

Stupid probably, I thought, to believe the shopkeeper

Days, months, years of loneliness have made me hesitant

Alternatively, perhaps my pessimism is misguided

You never know what may be

New Mexico was so beautiful.

When I went last, it wore a cloak of dry sand and a crown of turquoise. Call it austere, but I find loveliness when life is stripped to its essentials, when the little disagreements between humans are forced to melt before the blazing sun.

A philosopher would say that humans are always forced to face the looming presence of death. But what nice distractions we have! And no one believes that they will die. The concept of death is so antithetical to life. Some say that the briefness of life gives it meaning, but I was never one to stop eating chocolate cake just because my stomach hurt.

So with my final words, I curse death. This desert was never meant for me.

"I'll give you a wish," the woman said, leering at me. "Only five hundred lira." It was a crowded day, the oppressive sun of Rome beating down on we who braved the marketplace in order to buy the stuff of life. But this woman, inexplicably robed in black, seemed to be looking at me alone.

"Sold." I could buy this whole market if I wanted to, and five hundred lira is a pittance for a genuine wish.

"So? What do you want? I can do love, money, jewel-"

"Make me beloved of all." For once in my life, I didn't hesitate, didn't stumble over my words. "Make them love me. I am sick and tired of being used for my money or my status, when I know they secretly despise me."

"That's a difficult wish," the woman mused. "I'll do it, of course, but you must realize that my wishes are non-refundable, not-returnable, one-and-done..."

"Do it now, woman, and don't doubt my intelligence again."

"Of course, signore."

~

The next day, I stepped out of my carriage to market. Immediately, the masses swarmed around me.

"He's mine!" a young man shouted.

"No, he belongs to me!" the old woman yelled, throwing chrysanthemums.

The crowd swelled, crushing the death-blooms. My poor lungs, buffeted by the crowd, could not draw breath.

Citizens of Rome, don't lay flowers on my grave. After all, like the gladiators of old, it was your love that killed me.

ok bestie

you had a rough day? no time? hanging with them?

sure, girl. i totally believe that

i almost came to school today

through red eyes and fever

only to ensure that you wouldn't abandon me

i don't even like you that much, to be honest

but my closest friend is in italy

and i can't bear to eat lunch alone

she warns me, from rome

that you manipulated her

i knew this, have seen the havoc you've wreaked

after claiming to "not like drama"

i ask myself if i should reject you first

to save myself the trouble

but i am too nice, i think

at least that quality has never hampered you