Mossy Rock

So I decided I'd finally post on here...
It's been a while.
A LONG WHILE.
Anyway, I just want to ask you all (the air particles floating throughout time and space) if you ever get serious cases of writer's block that make you so depressed that you'd rather be a mossy rock than a person.
Does that ever happen to you?
I sincerely hope not.

Back to writing...

I ponder my travels and think of the stars.

I walk in the stars and gaze at the earth
Blue and green and brown
I see the stars below my feet
And think of the mirror blue night
I frown
So many lost, yet so little found
The mirror blue night makes the world go round
It makes time stop in its very own tracks
Wonderous mirror blue night

I walk to the sun and gaze through the rays
Blinding yet so beautiful
My vision begins to blur and melt
And I feel the mirror blue night
I lull
The sun is gone, and soon I yawn
I lay to sleep in the stars till dawn
Hypnotic mirror blue night

I walk with my shadow and sing a sad song
We sing this minor duet
My shadow and I, good friends, her and I
And I sing of the mirror blue night
And let
Night go bring to us so many deaths
It shall take from the innocent little short breaths
Slave of the mirror blue night

I met a schizophrenic

Because of the Butterfly

It flits through the air,
Blowing the beautiful lights away
And why, when it’s here, do the voices disappear?
It tortures me

Now it burns as though it is a floating flame
And I am scathed by the glare of its razor wings
No plan does it have to hurt me,
But nature bids it do so!

All is dark at present
It has killed... everything
No one talks to me anymore
I feel so alone, not knowing what to do with myself

I scream, but why, for no one hears
In the white I frantically hurl myself
Black and blue, I find my skin transforming like fire to ice, though the acid sensation in my mind remains
Why won’t it stop?!

Anything is better than this
Nature is cruel, but THIS is agonizing!
I do not deserve this pain!
Why must I live like this...

The answer, my friend, is something so simple
Why had I not thought of it before?
Now I Know what God wants
‘Be at peace,' he says

A bulb of light I hold in my hand and it envelops me
I feel the glow of heaven upon my skin
The devil creature melts from my sight
No longer does it follow me, and though my friends are gone, I feel not alone

A new friend, a new face
She is Beautiful!
She brings me to her home, and though it is encircled in flames, it is as cold as ices
She soothes me

But suddenly, I am in chains
The goddess before me, her alabaster skin cringes, contorts, and shrivels beyond recognition
Now a witch stands before my eyes, smiling
But why does she smile?

NO longer beautiful, her cold hand strikes my face
I bleed a river, and my blood boils ablaze
And I realize that I am not free, and that it is Hell in which I reside
I cry

Forever I am confined in this chamber of my mind
That which even death could not save me from
And she just laughs at me, for I am helpless
Like a heart without its being

I find now that it was not God speaking to me, but her
Why did I listen?!
All of this for the disburdening of one demon!
A fool, I was left to suffer ceaselessly

Because of the butterfly

Fallen Tree (being my first post, I must explain; titles are what the posts represent in my path ;D)

You've probably drawn from my composing this entry the conclusion that I am still awake despite the fact that it is 3:10 A.M. Well, this isn't at all pleasant for me, considering I have a relatively early rising time and a relatively packed day ahead of me, but nature will be nature and my body and mind will continue to do as they please.

As I was staring into the void of nothingness that accumulated in my room once i took of my heavily graded eyeglasses and turned off all possible sources of light, for I cannot sleep any other way, my mind began to wander and found itself thinking about the dilemma I was in, this almost "insomniacish" event I'm currently experiencing.

Why can't I sleep?

I've been awake for a descent time and I've had a fairly eventful day, more eventful than most, and yet I am still not even slightly exhausted.
Maybe I'm thinking too much.

Yes, being intelligent has MANY cons.

Too many thoughts running through my mind, I suppose. Why must I always be thinking of something? Why can't I simply put my bulging brain to rest, for many other times have I come across this problem, this monstrous inconvenience. I've been pondering useless subjects, things that I have no control over, no power whatsoever, and I've also been thinking about things I've never really thought to think about before; not so much 'the meaning of life' and what not, but more so personal morality and my daily ambitions, a self-evaluation if you will. I've thought about friends, acquaintances, friends I wish were ONLY acquaintances, and acquaintances I wish were my friends. This matter pertains to an upcoming post I'm working on, but I shall nonetheless expand on it.
Sometimes I wonder about the social choices I make and the ones that I think about but don't. Life can be such a puzzle. One minute two pieces can fit together making a perfectly plausible picture, but then you see that it's not the picture you want to see or it's not at all the right picture. I despise the forces of humanity that drive us to make these mistakes in our puzzles which, in this analogy, correlate to the dangerous decisions we make. Of course these decisions are the ones that really matter, and if we never made these then we wouldn't, would we?

Those who make more daring decisions are more likely to live a shorter life, but those who make no daring decisions will not live at all.

This year at school, my 8th grade year, I joined the Philosophy Club, and I'm very glad I did, no doubt. Taught by Ms. Brittney Hartley, we (I and a group of other brave nerds) journeyed through a land of many morals and standards thought of by wise and rational men, some women, of course. Now I wish that life was as simple as the base morals that they stood by, but as our teacher taught us, life's decisions are not always stripped bare down to the core so easily. She gave us a series of ethical and moral challenges, and much of the time, we would go back and forth about which sides to take, and in the end, my conclusion, though not completely finalized (I still have to think about this) is this:

There is no answer.

I find this comforting, though not necessarily correct. I shall block wonderments of these debates until I am mature enough to handle the, excuse my language, enormous loads of crap that come with them.

For now, I'd like to stop by a tree, a bush even, maybe a little house inhabited by hospitable dwarves if I'm lucky, and take the rest I need, but my legs move to their own accord, skipping, skipping, skipping...