There’s this really stupid thing in my life.

It’s always with me,

Sticking to me like gum.

It needs attention and care or I can’t do anything.

Energy is what it craves so I feed it.

Exercise is what it hates, but I make it do it anyway, or transportation will be hard.

It has all these crazy emotions and envies, and honestly, same.

I wish I hadn’t got this thing.

It’s not what I wanted.

It doesn’t have all the right aspects.

Or desired ones, anyways.

It’s slow and stupid and has built a ‘funny’ reputation which really hides its flaws.

It doesn’t have black or dark brown locks like a brunette,

Or a shiny golden mane like a blond.

Its shell isn’t pure bliss of a white or a nice chocolaty lush brown.

It doesn’t have those pretty turquoise see-ers,

Or the shining white chomps.

The meat drive it works off of slows me down and makes learning these things in this large hut called a ‘school’ harder, and it’s always got these worries about how it looks.

Sometimes I wonder why the universe forced me into this shell, this skeleton, this hideous muscle system. 

Sometimes I wonder why it isn’t smarter or better at things.

It’s always messing up and consistently growing, and it spends so much time on the facial sparkles, it’s unbearable!

Sometimes I feel bad for it.

Because it’s always looking at me in the mirror, hating itself.

I guess that’s the hate I gave it.

It’s always being stocked up on things, its limit is over the jar line.

And it can never, ever catch a break.

Because it’s always got something to worry about.

Like the other shells that it made a relationship with.

It’s always worrying about their problems and how to help fix them.

And then these other creatures have to always give it all this work,

Filling its poor time up to the brim.

Always fussing at it and saying that it needs to get its work done and it needs to do this and it needs to that.

…

I remember the times it used to take this wooden stick which has lead at the end and takes to paper.

It would make magnificent things.

Spirals and swirls would bloom on the white storm of nothingness.

I remember the days when it used to write in this thing called a computer.

Oh the stories it would entertain me with.

They always had a twist.

They were always interesting.

Oh, and the times when it used to hang out with its shell friends and family.

They laughed and had such a delightful time.

It always made sure I was a part of everything.

And in turn, I made its heartbeat a little faster, and its meat drive fill with happy memories.

Those were the good days.

But now it hardly gets to touch ‘pencil’ to paper, or write a twisting tale.

It hardly ever gets to have those good times.

Because things have changed for it.

It got more busy.

It got more drama.

It got more pain and suffering.

It got more tears and anger.

It got more envy.

It got more broken up by the society of these shells.

Picked up and hardwired back together how they liked it.

And it blocked off its heart from me.

It blocked off the happy times,

Because when I bring them,

It only made it cry.

It only made it miss more,

And crave more,

And hit more.

But still,

I don’t know how it manages,

But through losing its family,

And dealing with its friends,

And its own hurt and suffering,

It still manages to make people smile.

But when it’s alone, 

Sad,

Miserable,

Hurt,

Angry,

It finds a mirror,

And stares through its see-ers,

Through its meatdrive,

All the way to me.

And I stare back at it.

At us.

Cause even though we didn’t ask for each other, this is what we got. 

And I don’t think I could’ve wished for a better us.

Because through all of this,

I am the only thing that has stayed around long enough,

To care.

Because through all this,

I am the only one who has been their for it all,

To understand,

And because through all this,

Even as much as we both wish we had found a different shell,

I am the only one who remembers,

Who it really is. 

So if it ever gets lost, jumps off track or something,

I will always remember who it was,

And how to bounce it back.