In a land with rolling mountains and clouds meeting the horizon, I find me trapped in a cage of nerves. In a land with crisp air with swaying green grass, I find myself unable to draw a full breath.
In a land of change and enchantment, I find myself clinging to my fear of change and disdain for magic.
No matter the land, no matter the city, I carry within me, my soft fearful heart in my soft slow unwilling mollusc like body and I carry atop me a heavy shell of responsibilities and expectations.
No matter the land, no matter the city, I retreat within my coiled shell and my cage of nerves like a bothered snail.
I think it’s okay to be a bothered snail.
This bothered snail has seen many lands and has many friends. And sometimes I let the land into my shell and breathe slowly. Sometimes I come out of my shell and see my other snail friends. I feel okay being a bothered snail 🐌