Before I go to bed, I was thinking about how I see other people. More to the point my view toward interactions with people. I was going through my box of metaphors, trying to find a way to describe it. Anybody who has spent any time with me discussing things, would know I like my metaphors. I collect like some people collect junk in their house. Just call me the crazy old metaphor women. Oh my God, I used a metaphor describe my use of metaphor. How cool is that? Ok its cool to me. Don’t rain on my parade by telling me different.
The only problem with metaphors is when people take them literally. I could talk about my view of interactions with people with the park in mind and some people would think i sit on a park bench all day reading a book checking people out that walk by. That at one time in my life I was that annoying person that tried to hit people up for money. Better yet that person that played an instrument trying to get people to put money in my instrument case. Some people are so dense at times that they could cut glass with their head. Ok maybe I am stretching it the metaphor to breaking point there.
But regardless I am trying to express some thought in my head and for me metaphors work the best for me to express it. But sometimes they don’t work with some people. They get the wrong idea. When that happens misunderstandings occur. With the nature of language, it’s a miracle that we can get across the idea in our head in the first place.
Uh-oh the train of thought is lost. Damn train must be driven by a man. Never stops to ask for directions. It knows how to get there. Now the train is lost in the woods. The bloody driver keeps telling me that this is a shortcut to get to the conclusion of this post. Keeps telling me to quit nagging its given him a headache. Tell him to pull over at that hotel and let’s get some much-needed sleep.
Hmm this hotel looks alright except its run by someone called Norman Bates. No shower for me tonight. If I did that then he might slash up my ideas and I will find them in the car at the bottom of the swamp. Note to myself I really need to quit watching horror flicks. Because I have this need to keep writing this post and not go to sleep.
For those of you who may have read to this point and might be wondering what this has to do with life and a park as suggested by my title. You tell me. All I know is that I parked the idea in the park on a lark in the dark. That is the problem with this site. Everyone is so serious in their posts here. Expecting some bloody meaning. Oh great I had to say bloody. Here comes Norma now telling me she would never hurt a fly.