Landmines and Eggshells

There are landmines everywhere. I can't run. I can't even walk or crawl through it. I'm too scared to take a step. I've been carefully walking through for who knows how long. Stepped on a few dead landmines. Some landmines got triggered on their own, but I managed to dodge the severest damage. Or at least I think so. Maybe there's hidden shrapnel that I can't feel. I rarely think about the danger and damage, and I get through my days just fine.

I have my days where I'm terrified to attempt to walk through the fields. Today is one of those days.

Who set these landmines? People. Who else? I'm one of those people. I set landmines too. I don't remember setting them. Maybe I do it in my sleep. Maybe I black out and do it when I won't remember.

I set my landmines close to home. I think most of the landmines I have to be careful about were set by me. I set landmines around my friends too. I'm sorry. I have an obsession with landmines and explosions, but I have a great fear of them too. Trying to walk through the field to get to friends is so difficult. Why are there landmines and eggshells between us?

The eggshells that are strewn all across the ground don't help. Each crunch makes me wary of the next step. Each crunch is a reminder that the next step could destroy something.

On my feeling-brave days, I stride through the field, over the eggshells, crunching without a care. I'm surprised I've survived those days. On my normal days, I... I don't know how I survive my normal days. I get through them. But I don't know how I've done it.

But I'm still alive. My friends, for the most part, are still alive. Even though, I set those mines around them. Why did I set those things near the people I love the most?

I know I didn't put the eggshells there. They were there before I came along. But it feels like the amount of eggshells on the ground increased after I came along. There are just so many eggshells, and I can't count them all. I don't know how many there are. So maybe they haven't grown in number.

Just a field of landmines and eggshells that never changes. But I walk through it every day. We all walk through it every day. Some of us are better at avoiding the eggshells and the landmines. I used to be really good at it. Or I thought I was. Maybe I'm not that good.

It's funny. I think I've set off my own mines more often than I've set off anyone else's. You would think that I'd know how to avoid the ones I set. After all, I should know where they are. But I guess I forgot. The crunching doesn't help with the remembering. I stop to think about the landmines. But I have such bad balance even when I'm standing. I crunch the eggshells anyway. By accident. Because I can't stand still. Constant crunching. It interferes with my ability to recall.

I'm letting the eggshells distract me. But they're loud. Or their crunching is loud to me. I think the crunching echoes. So distracting.

I should probably pay more attention to the landmines. But the eggshells... They crunch under my feet. I haven't exploded yet. But the crunching... There's always crunching.

Sometimes, I think it's the eggshells that trigger the landmines that I manage to avoid. But how is that possible? They're eggshells. They're practically weightless. Unless there's a great quantity of them. So maybe that means the eggshells are increasing. Maybe there's so much that their weight is great enough to trigger the mines.

Who's throwing the eggshells onto the field of mines? Where do we get the eggs? How do we get the eggs when we're standing in the middle of the fucking minefield? Why are we standing in the middle of a giant field of mines? How can we continue to afford to set these landmines? Landmines aren't cheap. Neither are eggs.