Snails and faithfulness

Some alone time is good. I just haven’t enjoyed it to the fullest yet. It’s not the right time. Perhaps I will do that once everyone has forgotten about me. There are people I want to spend time with yet. It may seem like it’s ages away, but I’ll be out of the country in less than four months. Therefore, I owe my friends some time. How much I do want to be alone sometimes, I don’t want to waste these hours on myself.

I have this feeling that I contradict myself often. I say I’ll do this and that, but in the end, I do something else. Luckily it’s just trivial things like “taking a break from Myspace.” And here I am, typing away because I’m a blogger. I can’t keep my fingers off the keyboard. You know the moment you start eating crisps? You can’t stop until the bag is empty—what a horrible habit. I can’t resist reading and writing letters – letters with inspiring words. And eat crunchy crisps. Resistance is tricky. I can’t fight it. When it itches, I scratch until it bleeds.

I’m not given much of a chance now; I can’t say I’m a sinner. I have good people around me—friends and family. All decent and trustworthy people. But I still feel empty, continuously thinking about the past, people with whom I’ve missed out my chances. I can’t change anything, though. I resisted the temptation to prove my faithfulness to someone unworthy. I can’t tell whether it was dumb or not. But that’s another story.

The other day I saved a snail again. I watch them come out on rainy days, wandering around like tourists visiting a foreign city. But the snail I saved was lying on his back and had fully pooped itself. Excrement was all over its body. The sight was dreadful. Is life like that when no one’s there to slap you? I grabbed it with two fingers to put it back on its feet (did I say feet?). It was literally standing on its own shit. I refused to do anything more than that. I’ll help you stand up, but I won’t help you clean up your shit. I’ll keep you away from woodlice and ants, but nothing more than that. The day after, the snail was nowhere to be found.

This story reminds me of another one. I used to hang out with great people except a few who were off their heads. One summer, my friends and I were having a barbeque. It was a humid summer, and therefore, many slugs were out. I was watching a friend perform something horrible. Slugs are disgusting, but they aren’t much different from snails. I touch snails, but I don’t touch slugs. Well, what my friend did was pouring salt on its body. These creatures can’t scream; they can’t shout at you; they can’t express their agony. Its body became slimy, and you knew the salt was burning it to death. I can’t believe that I was sitting there – watching him do it. He laughed. I did nothing.

This is where I started to think about karma. Karma will pay him back. I told someone that I saved snails from pathways, and he said it was good karma. In my next life, I might become a snail myself, a snail that will take things slow and live life to the fullest. I’m not sure about that. That slug won’t ever forgive me for watching it getting killed.

Maybe my head wasn’t clear back then. I don’t know. However, I used to be very passive in the past, and I guess that was my problem. I was numb and hardly knew how to react to certain things. I didn’t have much that would stimulate my mind. That was such a long time ago. I would never want to be that person again.

I was told that I was a sober-minded writer. This makes me want to try something out in my next blog entry. It’s going to be an experiment.

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