“From oceans to stars”
I am too much of an Icarus myself, a conch from the deepest of oceans, yearning to reach into the fiery sun. Although my oceanic nature prohibits me from such. Nothing shall stop me from crawling my way across the sea bed. Once I set foot onto the burning hot sands, my only hope would be to witness myself, picked up by a mighty bird and flown toward that marvelous star.
Despite that, I stay too long. I expect too much. How would my dreams come into fruition if I wait for another to tend to it for me? I sit there slowly losing moisture. Feeling the granules of sand sticking onto my skin. Some tiny enough to squeeze into my shell, making it uncomfortable to move.
Why do I do this to myself? I start off strong and determined but once the thought of “being lucky” starts to seed into my mind all of that prowess soon loses its appeal. Days later, I am no longer there. I am no longer moving. I am simply a shell, dulled by sand and by the heat from the out of reach star.
I once heard that shells are the stars of the ocean. It’s comforting, yes, but also pitiful. How could a star so colorful end up in shame, desperately pleading to be changed?