An entire array of land in front of me, and I’m sitting on top of the rock of a mountain. No, it doesn’t look like the snowy, cold mountain you used to picture as a little kid. It’s more of the "Grand Canyon" kind of scenery. I wish I had done many other things right back at home, but I’ve mistook the whole concept of living to the fullest the opposite way. It’s horrible to be lonely. It’s more of a big terror when you’re in a vast area with the dust-infested air. Surrounding me, like it was here before I was. Well, it was here before me. And whoever shows up first--in this case, whatever shows here, should stay and the rest should leave. I look around and I don’t think much about how I’m feeling. It’s a mix of the Grand Canyon, the Simpson Desert, and nighttime all rolled into one. But what did I do to deserve this? I shouldn’t be here. Many of the so-called professionals of the so-called social world of this teenage galaxy should experience their senses observe the area. Not me. I see the future of myself as forever in a desert globe. I’m on top of the rock on the top of the mountain now, but I’m certainly not on top of the world. My heart is all the way at the bottom, gathering up dirt. An orchestra of stars just flying everywhere in my eyes, though they are standing still. In a big, wide globe and I am inside this globe. Hills lining up like dominoes, but as you touch them, they are unable to fall off, for they are stuck to the ground, and you suddenly realize that you’re actually here and that it’s not a dream. Everything, as you look up is a purple mixed with blue, and creates a fine color. Listen closely, and all you hear is nothing. Like the audience of an orchestra when they’re listening to a masterpiece. I was listening. And it was beautiful. You couldn’t yell out, because you’d ruin the whole thing. That was able to fly on Earth. Here in this other planet, it didn’t at all. Mainly for two reasons, one being that you feel much better when everything was more peaceful, and your mind adjusted to that. Another reason, I thought someone would speak up if I did, like they do in their orchestra shows. That’d scare me, and I didn’t need to be scared, having my heart beat so fast. Peaceful actually calmed me down. The scary part was when the lights were all dimmed to pitch black, and I were to sleep, afraid of anything that snuck up on me. So much for a “Good Night”.
March 31, 2010