Too many to count is how much of us there are.
And yet the world's beauty is in first place for the tranquility there is in the vast speck of nothing we belong to.
Incredible that each one of us, with our separate imperfectly formed individual lives, can suffer so much.
Seems like a separate world is just around the corner when we pop out of our innocent human lives for a mere second.
It is certainly not easy to claim that someone is sane when we each are in our own small world of chaos.
Belonging to our own personal snail shells where the world around us moves so quickly while we focus on the little things that hold us back.
Most would say that they just go with the flow, but what flow would a certain someone belong to?
If not the rest of the swiftly moving snails' flow?
There are a numerous amount of snail worlds on this small planet we call a home.
So what if you are not a part of my chaos?
Less for you to worry about.
But yet surprisingly with all the cruelty that claims a form in each shell
We all want a part of each others pain, suffrage, joy, and wonder.
Is that why snails leave their shells behind?
Because they have become accustomed to their current troubles
And look for other more thrilling roller coasters to hop along on,
To leave their past behind for someone to gaze upon as lost treasure.
Maybe that's it...
We become so caught up with what is going on in our minds, shells, surroundings, or whatever you may call it
That we lose what is really important and instead of moving forward,
We linger in our own existence while others that know what the rest of us don't
Move on to something better,forgetting or not caring about who or what they may have left behind.
So if we are more precise than accurate in number
Does the chaos find us?
Or do we become the chaos?