It doesn't matter if it is or if it isn't, as long as you have a fast pair of shoes.

I walked out of the hospital today. 

Facing death is one thing but facing torture is another. 

The world is indifferent.

It's not as simple as being optimistic or pessimistic. It's as simple as knowing most people in this city don't care.

We categorize everything.

LA

I stared out at it with regret for allowing my self to stay this long. 

I am tired of glass and stucco and cars.

My heart has lost it's speech.

Comfort has led to self-imprisonment.

To be on the move under new sky comforts the stranger inside of me.

The adrenaline of the outdoors. A fall from bad footing and misjudged direction has become strange to me.

My mind wanders to the canyons I explored with my father and brothers when I was a child. It's hidden there high in the Gila near two waterfalls and a deep canyon with cottonwoods. The smell of wild mint blows along the bank in the evenings when the wind is done high in the mountains and starts it's decent back to where it came from. There are trout in the creek that are easy  to catch. There is an Apache cave to protect us from the lighting during monsoon season. 

I considered the stand of cottonwood trees that grow next to a hidden waterfall inside the Gila Wilderness. It is a place with strong memories and clean water that is good for drinking. There are bass and cut-throat trout in the creek that are simple enough to catch. Wild mint grows on the riverbank and the smell drifts down the canyon in the evening winds after they are done working in the mountains. I start gathering fire wood as the low areas along the creek start to get cold. 

There is a waterfall on the right. It's up from the place called Cow Cave where black suit from Indian fires still clings. Below all of this is an even bigger cave with ruins from cliff dwellers. In July we would watch the storms rumble through the canyon from the warmth of the dwelling caves.  

In my dreams I still see the walls lit up by the lightning and when I wake I remember the sounds of the summer storms as they rush free through the canyons.