Saturday, 23 March 2013

When we imagine metaphor.

While she was walking down the street, she couldn't think about anything else, no matter how hard she tried. She couldn't help herself from imagining all the buildings around her exploding in various ways. It wasn't malicious, perhaps this was an actual by-product of too many movies. She wished no violence or pain towards anyone. But she wanted to see the buildings blow up. And she wanted to run dramatically away from them as they exploded.

Life was getting pretty fucking boring. To say the least.

More and more as each day continued, she was beginning to hate everyone and everything. The little joys in life weren't filling the holes in her life as much as they used to. Not that she ever had many little joys to begin with. She hated animals, she hated children, she hated sex, she hated alcohol, she hated most conversations with other human beings. She hated the little things. And she couldn't for the life of her. Figure out what the hell the big things in life were supposed to be.

What are the big things in life supposed to be?

It was becoming disturbingly clear that life for most people was an amalgamation of a whole bunch of little things. With the occasional big sad thing mixed in there, only to get back to the little things as quickly as possible.

Her little thing was imagining buildings exploding.

She didn't know how to make it better, and she didn't know who to ask. Like most people that are slightly above average, but lack motivation to do things in life. She only had average people in her life to ask. And they all just wanted her to be average. There were no answers there. And no matter how many inspirational quotes she read or heard. She couldn't find it in herself.

Except when she was imagining buildings exploding.

When she was imagining buildings exploding, she felt as if she was capable of anything.

She is capable of anything. She just needs to find that in herself.