Hark! Over the years many people have been raised on mountains but few, maybe even none other than myself have been raised inside of one. It was a rather dull childhood I will admit. To move I rarely had more than an inch or two of fidget space, but in that time I developed a great sense of imagination. While on weekends I was released for a few hours. I made great gain from scaring the locals by popping up from the ground beneath their goats during milking sessions. Oh how we laughed when goats would slip and slam their faces into the wall in fright, and even the villagers too eventually saw the fun in our game. However after I turned 18 I was expelled from the society for a joke that went too far (the goat to this day has not let go of the steeple) and moved into the city. Here I have found my second home under its claustrophobic shroud and heavy surrounding. It may be where I belong.