Out of metaphors an Owl is just a bird, everyone knows it, except those who don't know. Sounds correct, right?
Well, I am not convinced of this and I keep repeating to myself that metaphors are very useful to convey some mental image to the others BUT they aren't "true". Right?
I want a fox to be just a strange dog and not a super-sly animal that pisses off the dumb ones.
I want ravens to be lovely and skeletons just white bones arrayed to resemble the man/woman they once were.
With all my willpower I agonize portraying things as they are, at least in my asshole skull.
Take it as a god given statement, take it as the first law of an axiomatic set of rules governing the universe, take it as you wish: Metaphors are just fucking metaphors.
Then why am I a punching ball?
I see gloved words en garde, half opened eyes studying my movements, self proclaimed adversaries withdrawing while planning the next attempt to slip through my unprepared defenses.
Am I my ultimate metaphor?
Am I the only representation I can expose?
Am I that exposed to others?
Right now I'm spitting my mantra, unconvincingly: "Owl is a bird. Birds are stupid. Owls are stupid".
Then why do sweating fighters fill the gym that's my existence and prove their prowess with me as target?
Did I ask you to show me something? Am I behaving so provokingly? Do I really feed your need for accomplishment?
If that is so: tell me! Say it out loud: "wanna let off some tension, you available? Got this powerful jab already heading for your teeth!".
And you know what my answer would be? "Ok, it's 100 bucks".
No kidding! Do you want me to embody my metaphor? You are welcome.
But pay me!
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