Islamabad, The Place Where I Live

People say Islamabad is peaceful and what not. It does have greenery to be sure and that is something beautiful indeed. But most humans I should imagine miss out on its most vital theme. The desolation it hides so carefully is the most powerful atmospheric vibe of all. I feel empty when I'm in Islamabad like all happiness is gone, like happiness would in any case be terribly out of place. And even when I could have left it clung to me and kept me here in its morose little spell. The roads and the pavements you will find are terribly clean, perhaps spotless but there is no actual life or culture here. Shopping is pointless with little variety for picky people like me, and the lights go out before the night has truly fallen. Even when me and my family go out for dinner, I come back more miserable than before. I hate that the people who hurt me still probably live in this city somewhere or that the remnants of their memory can still somehow be found. With time I have begun to hate everything about it. Reading through my posts you may think that I am an intolerant, temperamental little wench but there is more to me. I have lost myself for now it is true but surely someone must know how much more there is. I feel in the midst of chaos for the first real time in my life. Before there were things I could hold on to, there were things to go back to but now there is nothing. The people I have modeled my life after are liars and they have completed their deception to the point at which it has sucked me in and destroyed all that I knew about life. This city seems in connivance with other external forces, it makes me feel unwelcome, it makes me feel like a stranger and its beauty has no comfort or solace for me. It seems like people now, acting pretty on the outside but filled with unimaginable filth within. The conflict is greater now than ever before and so is the presence of all the things that I dread and there is no one to help. No one CAN help I think, I need to find a new anchor because the old ones have decayed and their foundations are lost. Where can one go when your identity is a lie, when you belong nowhere and with no one and when deprivation in its entirety is all that even fits anymore? Something is terribly wrong here and too much has happened and my backbone has broken with the weight of it. How do I continue to carry boldly all that now exists behind, without it?