p.s., i am defining "metaphor, in one of its variants, as standing on the Hawthorne bridge over a mysterious substance, water, that conforms, flows perpetually, the water, like an arc, like a bat, that is perceived viscerally in contexts and retrieved and stitched to other events "re-membered," where such sensation is applicable, yet is "filling in" for (i.e., representing, substituting, symbolizing, communicating, exchanging) an idea, a universal truth that is relevant in the life(ves) of one or more who are experiencing/imag(in)ing events and puzzle pieces--the meaning of which can be discovered, conversely, by exploring all aspects of the thing observed in the moment where its totality or a subsection of juxtaposed layers expose themselves in your consciousness that is capable of perceiving them--hands palm down like flap jacks--searching "it" to the extent that the truth is no longer hidden.
in another variant, "metaphor" is a metaphor, as is each of these words.
in yet another variant definition, "I" and "Eye," homophones, and, I like suggesting, homonyms, are metaphor. Here, signs are everywhere on your daily walk that have fallen off the poles, people come up to you and speak to your thought, you will find lots of rainbow colors, a piece of blue balloon that signifies at what phase of matter you are coalescing into, sage handed you by a self-identifying sage, seeing everything but the ironic symmetry, until later having a third layer to the evolving metaphor.
in my language-reality, then, i know that everything is metaphor. the story of the tortoise, by lewis carroll, incidentally, will artfully illustrate that this is true.
this is real. things are really not that complicated (please see above(. . .
