I like metaphors.
Okay, I love them very, very, very much. I have an obsession of trying to simplify the chaos in my mind verbally in a way that merges literal objects and my fondness for trying to tell stories. This doesn’t always work.
My Mom and I were talking today about the duality of genetics that I might be fighting internally. I realized where I was going with this chasm of absurdity, but I just could not stop.
“So imagine Dad hands me a box and you hand me, okay – no. We’re all sitting at a table. Dad gives me a box with his genetic code of restlessness and wanderlust and you slide a box over from your side full of the desire for security. Wait – this is better – in the boxes are bears. Baby bears. So I pull out these bears and they just fight. It’s the baby bear of “The Grass is Greener on the Other Side” and stability bear duking it out on the table.”
I exhaled.
I could feel my Mom furrow her brow over the phone. She slowly and tentatively said, “At least you know… about this…that might make you ahead of the game already.”
Posted by firewings 
