the life and times of a peanut.

i am a peanut. in the metaphorical sense please i'm not really a source of protein.
but hence i have a shell, its composed of book texts and smiles and songs that cheer people up. its shell is salty in the most sense, i think that fits well with my exterior since im not much of a sweets person. its very easily breakable but it serves its purposes of holding the insides together quite well. the inside,which not much people know about is hard and its round and smooth with a polished feel. the nut has such potential to be planted and grow and wont suffice to produce more of its nutritional beings and provide oxygen for others to thrive and make something of its self. but most likely for this peanut, the only findings of accomplishment that it will find is the satisfied pit of a humans stomach or maybe of an elephant; but we cant get too greedy can we? but oh well, its nice just to know that i have at least an elemental notion to me. i dont really know the point of this post. i dont think it has at least a real reason but maybe a subconcosious one? i dunno. all i know is that i mite be leaving sooner than i think. and that ive gotten over things quicker than i thought. and that some people are so pretentious. and that some people capture my interest that have always done so before but i am letting it sink deeper into me than before. theres a crack in my shell. i guess.