And the world can be a fucked up place to be. But do I pay attention more because I’m a writer? As I look out the window I see the moon shining like the glow of a halogen lamp as it stands alone surrounded by stars that sparkle like the glitter on a Michael Jackson jacket. It’s natural to see beyond the curtains of my reality out a window that connects me to the simple pleasures of the eye.
Wait…let me write that down
So they say life can be a bitch or is a bitch depending on where you’re at in life. I think it’s more of a stage where we perform until the curtain falls. We exists to encounter problems, we glow to encounter new problems that help us either fall or rise again depending on how much strength we gained from the previous problem. And then there are those damn metaphors. Those comparisons that give us a clearer glimpse into what something is like or about.
The other day I was as cold as ice.
My heart that is (as I was angry at a few situations that caused me to shut myself off towards emotions). Being cold as ice could’ve meant temperature but now that I told you it was a coldness involving the emotion of anger, you know how fucking mad I really was. Slyvia Plath loved metaphors as many poets and writers do. They help the transition of our ideas and gives purpose to our description of aspects of life such as those problems and life being a bitch. I personally do enjoy the usage of metaphors because I see them daily even when simply looking out my window. I see them driving, conversing in crowds, jogging through parks, barking at strangers walking past and sitting on park benches. They are all around me and as a writer of poetry I just inhale their presence.
M E T A P H O R S are the distractions and attractions