HATE AND FEAR
This life of mine must be the path to fucking hell. The past few years I’ve grown into a long lady and by no means was it what I expected. All men have evil intentions and this town has no means to prosper. There is no town-drunk because they all are like-minded alcoholics drinking their dreams away. My body is overwhelmed with hate and fear for my future here. I’ve tried to leave before, but truthfully I wasn’t ready. I’ve been tending bar part-time whilst working full-time for the county jail. “What a fucking mess this place is,” I thought to myself often. Because I hope to live another day to speak my truth, I will only say this… There is no law here. They’re all corrupted, ignorant men that is. And I hate that I’s be like one of them. There is no hope for me here. Hell, I don’t even think there’s a God above anymore ‘cause he sure should’ve helped me long before I got myself into this shit. I’s burnt out on life. Same shit, different day, over and over again. I’s going fucking crazy. My soul was aching for something, though I didn’t know what.
I now lean on the bottle like the others.
I went to work at 5:30 sunrise one day, worked ‘til just after the noon hour, went home, slept, then went back to work at 10 sundown. Fuck, that sucked. I’s a sitting in the office ‘round midnight whilst reading the paper. Flippin’ through the obituaries and looking ‘round the crosswords, I came across an ad. Now lookin’ back on that moment I know that was God tappin’ on my shoulder. The ad read, “Rocky Mountain School of Photography - Missoula, MT.” I felt something like a spark in my soul. They were lookin’ for folks all over the world to attend. I’d-a never been that far west before and never in a million years did I ever think I wanted to be a photographer. But hell, I didn’t really know what I wanted other than something different. I wrote to that school and applied for the summer course which was just six weeks short. I’d-a been saving plenty of money with all the work I’d been doing now. Not to mention, I really didn’t think I was gonna be accepted or anything. Long story turned short, I’s accepted. I told my folks I’d be back after summer and that I’d get right back with the sheriffs office, continuing just as before.
But I knew all along I’d never be back.
Many days I traveled country I’d be familiar with from past ventures but by the time I rode into Montana, that was a whole new world. I passed through the prairies and sands as the sun kept circling from behind, meeting me at the horizon. The journey was long, almost felt never ending. I finally rode into the base of the mountains, crossing over many passes and following rivers beneath them. By the first week of June I rode upon my new beginning, the Bitterroot Valley. Hills of sapphires and green, river bottoms and thick meadows; this place was like nothing I’d-a seen before.
I felt alive.
