Metaphors organize unconsciousness using a serrated blade to portion the complex to be strewn as prime cut disguised as familiar abattoir viscera. Each bite the devourer consumes leaks juice built in tissue and muscle, once a function of movement, morphed into an understanding of fulfillment. That jaunts neuronal function-just another step in the process. We’ve come to expect understanding as an offering while ignoring the chore of preparation. Convenience comes as one click, visceral head-nod response simply stating:
“Okay. I’ll conform.”
What we gain from this conformity lacks what we earn from creativity. I eat caffeine like it’s abattoir viscera, I tremble as I write…I fear my nerves are ruined. This is my sacrifice to nothing in particular and everything at once.