Friday, April 28, 2017

April 2017 in Metaphors

Metaphors are my favourite. They have literally always been my favourite. They're better than similes because they're more succinct and thus, more poetic, more subtle. Stephen King would probably agree with me. I have nothing to base this on, I just think he would.

Anyway.

I remember being a teenager and thinking of metaphors for everything. Nothing was only what it was. This was true of everything, not just important things or amazing things. This day is a turtle. This science class is a yawning, endless abysm. This spaghetti is a lot of worms. I was a great teenager.

I've sat down to blog about April 2017 probably 200 times since the month began.

The problem is that every stinking time I sit down to write about one thing, something else happens. I cant keep up enough to actually document everything, so I'm going to channel my 17-year-old self and describe the month to you in metaphors instead. I suppose this could constitute vague-blogging, but that term is stupid. No one ever accuses musicians of 'vague-songwriting.' Like, Conor Oberst is over there singing, "Just lately I've been feeling like I don't belong/Like the ground's not mine to walk upon," and no one's mad. No one's like, "WHAT HAPPENED, CONOR? WHAT'S WRONG? SOUNDS LIKE SOMETHING'S UP?"

Sometimes you just want to be melodramatic about a really long, boring science class, you know? I'm pretty sure that's what most of Oberst's songs are referring to. I get him.

Okay. April 2017:

1. April 2017 is a clown car: at first sight, it looks short and compact, but then more and more things keep coming out of it. And as it draws to a close, you think, okay, this is the last clown, and then it's not. It's not the second-last clown or even the third-last. It is, at this point, comical how many clowns fit in this calendar. I mean car.

2. April 2017 is a flavourful sandwich with ghost peppers and bird poop hidden throughout. Think the best sandwich ever (Schwartz's or Italian Star Deli), except every few bites unexpectedly burns your tongue to a stump in your mouth or is unexpectedly disgusting. But also there's jalapeƱos in there, and they're the great kind of spicy. As a whole: delicious, yet terrifying and at points very awful. But you have to eat the sandwich because the sandwich is time.

This metaphor sucks.

3. April 2017 is a rollercoaster. No. Wait. That's everybody's metaphor for everything. Forget I said that.

4. April 2017 is a...balding man. Because it was more hairy at the beginning than the end. But it's still a little hairy in places. And it's getting old.

That was a great metaphor.

I was going to try for ten metaphors, but let's end there, with that great metaphor. Aren't you glad you read my blog? Don't you wish you were my friend when I was a teenager?

9 comments:

  1. 1. You make me laugh
    2. I love everything--and would read anything--that you write.

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    1. You are seriously one of the most encouraging people ever. I appreciate it so much. And I love your blog back. #blogfriends

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  2. Your April is this bag of jelly beans in eating. Done of them are good, some are terrible, but I can't stop eating them because they are jelly beans. (I don't even really like jelly beans, but I can't stop eating them.)

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    1. Hahahahaha—PS: I also don't like jelly beans, except a few select Jelly Belly flavours. So. It's a good metaphor.

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  3. Hahaha. I LOVE this. I wish I would've had you around in high school English to help me write my papers.

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    1. I think we would've been great friends in high school!

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  4. your metaphors are a philodendron in a basket on a wobbly coffee table.

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    1. I don't know if this is a good thing or a bad thing but I love it either way.

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  5. To follow your metaphor a little further, I'm April.

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