plan a

slowly I'm finding that all to often i notice myself being swallowed into the world of metaphors.
metaphors- preliminary meanings - turning objects and notions, into one big blob of flowery language.
is it important to veraciously apply such language into my everyday breed? well painters, that's what painters do.
piles and piles of metaphors stacked up, greeting each other with a hello
you see i don't want to get into that.
uhm whoopie's singing to me right now "you got it"

its this sickening thing that I've grown accustomed to, the english language, which provides us with rules and differences on wear where were blah blah....
it buggs me weather whether, mourning morning.
hello! do you follow?

i guess im throwing this across the table, the idea that we're (past tense) once this (ours)- later turning into anothers that.
or even something more significant. one second your finding yourself falling into a can of tomato soup and the next blink your digesting some henry matisse. who knew, not you. again you're never fully aware of the next big step nor foot of action, big leap, flying chair- saucer through the sky. we're silly, always worrying about the conveniences of right now.

now plan a. i haven't got it yet.
but its ok, for its summer, i still have time.