26 January 2006

Grind

This morning I found a snail on my windshield. It's little tongue-like body sticking to the cold of the glass. A tiny shell that couldn't have measured more than a quarter of an inch nestled on it's back. Moving along, making an insignificant trail only visible if the sun hit it just right.

How it got there, I don't know. Uncharted territory for sure. Making it's way across what must have been -- in relation to us -- the expanse of the arctic tundra. To snails the earth must be like the universe, infinite. You're never going to see it all and you just have to accept it. If snails even have a concept of such things.

There are all these places I read about or see online or on TV, these countries and cities I've never been to. How do I know they really exist? Right now, to me, the world is too big. I need to go. Leave and come back with stories of foreign lands.

I decided to take him/her/it to work with me. I was going to help it expand it's horizons. Live vicariously. I'd let it go in the garden out front of my building. It's better than anything our apartment complex has to offer. Maybe it'll make friends with some DC snails. Who knows, we were going on an adventure, this was good for us. A mercy kidnapping.

I couldn't imagine what was going through it's little snail mind. New places, scents, scenery, location. Has it ever been in a car before? Is it happy? Sad? Scared? Packing up and leaving the only world you know for what will probably be ever is pretty heavy. Being taken somewhere and forced to make a new home for yourself. Making a new you. Unable to see loved ones ever again. Change man, it's a head trip.

Still, it's better than the whiteknuckled commute I make everyday, alone. Surrounded by assholes, going to a job that only fuels my unhappiness. I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy.

And it dawned on me, this situation I'm in, I can't let her come back just for me. If she comes back this has to be for her, because she hates it and is home sick. It has to be made clear. She's doing her dream and that dream has nothing to do with the same route everyday. Traveling, that's what it's about. Being free and going on adventures. I can't be the one who ruins that. I'd never sleep at night.

I'll check on Carl at lunch. That's the snail's name. Carl.

13 comments:

Momster said...

Poor Carl. Talk about your UFO abductions! The other snails will never believe him. He'll be the laughing stock of Snailville, take to "the drink" and end up throwing himself and a salt shaker. Poor Carl.

Paul said...

Don't say that! Maybe he'll meet the love of his life in some foreign land. I stand by my decision. Besides, I went out there and he was gone, I bet he's gettin' busy already. That carl, he's a ladies' man. How do I know? We talked, he told me.

Kevin K said...

Jesus, Paul. Life metaphors just love to slap you in the face. Maybe I should take to drugs or something...

jess said...

I am doing it for me. I now know what it is like to be on the road. that is all i asked for. That is what my dream is and was. I know that I have to atleast try things. If I don't atleast give things a try then I will allways have that doubt in my mind. I was never homesick casue i had nothing to be homesick about before. Carl is a good name by the way I once named a sheep that. Hey i looked up in the sky the other night saw this massive thing in the sky and realized oh my god james omasons left nut.

Paul said...

Edward James Olmos' balls are the nothern lights!

Mavlock The Midnightman said...

O_O!

Jon said...

Those are EJO's unborn children, sparking into life as they descend through the thin Arctic atmosphere?

Huh, the tour guide told me it was sleet...

kbryna said...

oh snail.


wow.

belario said...

i think i came across Carl's cousin down here in FL last summer. i didn't catch his name; he seemed to be in quite a hurry. as a matter of fact he was taking a passenger of his own out for a ride.

you make friends with all sorts - it's a neat quality. =)

Paul said...

naw Jon... Fred, your tour guide, he said "it's l33t." I can understand the mix up, Fred, he's got a wicked speech impediment.

Yeah, Midnightman, welcome to the inside jokes.

Thanks Kerr... can I call you Kerrbear? I think I might start.

Jen, i'm neat? is that like you're telling me i'm cool? I could handle that.

and as usual, Jess, i miss you.

that's it for me.

Beautiful agony said...

you know it may not have been his nut it could have been a massive planet that was created by rolling up thousannds of things a spanish king that looks like hunter s thompson put their.

Mavlock The Midnightman said...

Wow, and I thought the one about the sky being David Bowie's area*shudders* was bad.

Beautiful agony said...

did you know a snail can sleep for 3 years

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