From Cradle To Cave

They call people who do their best work late at night, or in my case in the wee hours of the morning, night owls.. but I'm beginning to think frivolous work in the darkness stems from lights being turned on internally. As I sit preparing to unleash the inner torment inside my brain, I'm staring down at my freshly painted fingernails. It's strange to think that just a few hours ago I was curled up on the floor of my closet wallowing in the tears of self pity and pure anger. .. Maybe that has something to do with the black coloring of the polish, or even the Sharpie tattooed smiley face staring back at me that I drew since my best friend isn't here to remind me to turn the corners of my lips up occasionally.
Alright, enough of the pathetic wallowing. Let's move on to something far more beautiful than waterfalls pouring out of angry eyes, and definitely more powerful than a lump of human on the floor. I'm talking about the Rocky Mountains, of course. I left Thursday evening with my trusty suitcase, not bothering to make sure I had every last thing packed... why worry about such minor details when flying to Colorado? I did all the things I normally do in Colorado, which consisted of trying to squeeze as many new adventures in during such a short amount of time. I caught up on my education in a museum, got my culture exploration done strolling the streets of Boulder, and even managed to reunite with the mountains on a hike. After enjoying a night with friends downtown, it was time to drag myself back "home", literally driving away from the most beautiful scenery imaginable.
Now, I know what you're thinking, so I'll go ahead and address the over dramatic tone in my words.
It's hard for me to write or even talk about Colorado in a way that isn't magical. Colorado is my home... if home truly is where the heart is. I can't compare it, or dumb it down in any way to make it sound like some mere vacation to get away from work, school, the mundane lifestyle of humidity and mosquitoes, or what have you. Colorado is my dream, my happiness, my peace. I wear it every day.. not like wearing struggles, or pain on your sleeve; but around my neck right down to my fingers so I can be reminded of the beauty and simplicity of this dream. I write what I feel, and Colorado certainly brings out the most colorful emotions inside me, so I will continue to write, and talk, and feel about Colorado the same way a five year old feels at Disney World.
I was born in Missouri. I was raised in Missouri. But I will never appreciate Missouri, until I leave it. I dream of packing my bags, and leaving for the Rockies every day, but I can't be a dreamer forever. I don't want to be a dreamer forever. I live my life as though I have reality, and I have escape... being my dreams. When I escape, I am always being pulled back into reality, and lately I find myself scratching to stay in my dream.
I once asked a friend, "If you couldn't have something real, would you choose something meaningless over nothing at all?", to which he responded, "If it is meaningless, then it already is nothing". I'm not saying my life is nothing, or my memories here are nothing... I'm simply saying, my situation has become nothing anymore, and I won't live for nothing.
So for now, I'm writing my frustrations so I can wake up in the morning and go to work, to be able to pay off my debts, and hopefully save for my dream.. because I don't know if I can go back to Colorado, and have to leave it again.