A Few Metaphors All about the Same Thing

Before we begin, I would just like to make one request from you, the reader. I don't write without the purpose of giving enjoyment/insight to a reader, and I would like to know if I have accomplished that or not. So, if you read this, please let me know what you think. And have patience.

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First Metaphor: Headphones

I have worn during my life many pairs of headphones. The cheapest headphones that I bought and used for more than one day cost me 12 dollars, while the most expensive cost me 85 dollars. There are headphones out there for as cheap as 5 dollars, and there are others which are as expensive as 500 dollars or more.

The 12 dollar pair, I wore for a summer while working because I had no way of getting better headphones, but I hated them and myself for hearing such poor quality sound. Still, when you are without option, you take what you can get, and later try not to think about it. Afterwards, I realized that I was better off with silence. The 85 dollar pair is a set of noise canceling headphones from Sony. I have a thing with Sony. Sony is just my style; I don't feel as complete if my headphones are not Sony, regardless of form or function. In any case, these headphones, though expensive, did not deliver all that I had hoped for. They looked great and had excellent specs, yet upon use proved lacking in bass, painful over the ears after an hour, and to have a double wire which twists uncontrollably. Overall, I am stuck with them due to the price I paid, the investment put in.

Of these headphones, the one I most enjoyed using was a beat up pair of 30 dollar Sony MDR-EX55LP earbuds that I used for over 1.5 years before the cord finally wore out and music stopped issuing into my left ear. This is how life goes when you have found something truly great, that fits like a silk glove. That is, the headphones died after tough usage, and I was forced to part with much sorrow. That pair still sits in my desk drawer though now defunct, as I am unable to bear trashing an item that I treasured for so long.

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Second Metaphor: Office Supplies

I am very particular about my office supplies. This includes but is not limited to pens, pencils, erasers, staplers, tape dispensers, scissors, and markers. My general rule is that once I have found something, I will use it until it can no longer function as I desire. If you were to offer me a 100 dollar fountain pen, I would not be able to bring myself to use it until I finished off the pen that I am currently working on. I mean, using.

There are exceptions to this, of course. At times, a pen fresh from the pack will produce streaky marks for a page or so, at which point I become ambivalent to the pen. I place it in a special compartment of my desk pen-holder, and each time I use up a pen or find another streaky pen, I try the old pen again. After five or six tries, I give up and toss the pen, though very reluctantly. I have at times reached into my garbage in order to give the pen another try, because I see it lying there full of ink and ready to be used, yet when I put it to paper I am again disappointed.

Erasers deserve a special attention, as the use of an eraser molds its future shape. I loathe pink erasers; my preferred eraser is the "plastic eraser" type, which is white and erases as if it is greased. If the eraser comes to me in its wrapper, I do not remove the wrapper even if the eraser becomes too short to use. If an eraser comes to me without its wrapper, I use it until it reaches a size so small so as to be unusable. I then very uncomfortably use the next eraser in line. I am not against using stray erasers that I find in classrooms or such, so long as they fit my requirements (not pink). I mourn when I lose an eraser. Oftentimes, I do not begin using another eraser for a month or so after which I have given up hope of finding the old one. I like to think that an eraser will find its way back to me.

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Third Metaphor: Video Games

I enjoy playing console games. I generally play games within the "JRPG" ("Japanese Role-Playing Game") genre. When I tell people that I play RPGs, often I am asked if I have played such games as "Mass Effect" or other western RPGs, at which I am tempted to sneer and make remarks about how I only play good games. I am a game elitist, and if a game is not made by the right company or played on the right console or does not have music composed by the right video game composer or any one of countless flaws, then I will not even think about it. I might, however, if a good friend whose taste in video games I trust recommends me to play a particular game outside my interests.

I often start games and don't finish them. When I am enjoying a game, I think of playing no other game. My mind is focused entirely on that one game until it is finished. If I am not enjoying any particular game, then I leisurely take hour-long sits at various games until one perks my interest or until I have no more hours to sit for. Sometimes this can take months, and at other times I go from intense game to intense game without a waiting period.

I love playing games alone. When people come and watch me play, I feel disturbed, as if a sacred process is being ruined by the eyes of those who do not understand. Yet, I will not complain or say anything to those who come by to watch, as it would be unfair of me to disallow the game to be viewed from afar while I am playing. I would never let somebody play a game that I am currently playing, as I am currently playing it.

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Fourth Metaphor: You, You, You and Me

I usually remain at a distance in mind and body, as I find it most healthy to keep myself intact this way. We engage in conversations that I begin and that you end. When I see you, it is by expected routine, and may be a formality or businesslike event. Rarely, we meet by chance, and at these times I allow my distance to unremain. We will exchange banter. I will attempt to impersonate a cultured and well-informed gentleman of wise remarks yet cool demeanor. You will thoughtlessly brush off my intentioned queries with brusqueness or simply ignorance. I will leave having enjoyed good company, and you will leave having accomplished some schoolwork, a drop in the bucket. Afterwards, I disallow my distance to unremain. Rinse and repeat.

I constantly skirt the edge of danger, as I am often too tempted to step away, yet too frightened to leap. When we converse, the words contain hidden actions, and the hidden actions speak words. If I reveal a bit too much of my hand, you fold, and if you raise the pot, I fold. Neither of us seem to be in it to win, but only to wheedle and tease from each other bits and pieces that neither satisfy nor discourage. I think often of letting you know that I am actually smiling under all the masked looks, but I am afraid that when you lower your guise, your eyes will be looking past me. So, we act only the roles in a script that entertains on the television screen but holds no meaning for real people, as spinning around and around each other endlessly is no real way to grow together.

I am half of the time sprinting towards you, and the other half of the time stopped to catch my breath as you dash out of reach. I started out pretty far away, but even as I chase you, I am not sure if I am even headed in the right direction. This leaves me confused and apprehensive at taking even a single step, and so often I don't. All I am sure of at these times is that you are moving farther away. Whenever I shout, you hear me and respond, and I hear you nearby, ever so close, but of course, I cannot run and shout at the same time. Somewhere in the my deepest beliefs, I hold your happiness higher than my own, and so I am content to simply run endlessly, fruitlessly, speaking up only to remind you that you are going the wrong way every now and then. I have no certainty that I will ever rendezvous with you, but I do know that I will love you, wherever you are and wherever you go.

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Note: One of these is not really a metaphor.