Monday October 30th 2006, 5:15 am
Filed under: All Letters,Love Letters

To the terrible writer,

I am a walking cliché! When I think about love, suffering, pain, lust, etc. my metaphors come as if I’ve crapped them out with last night’s tomalley dinner. What the hell am I to do with myself? Metaphor is the only reason to continue living – and if I can’t think of better metaphors than the shit I’m spouting, I have no reason to live. Life is a metaphor, a system of Appropriations that give Being its essence. How can I not use this as a learning lesson to my own expression? Language is a metaphor for stimulus and describing our experience through coherent thoughts. It’s a dialectical and logistical process of supplanting reality with our perception of reality. Metaphor comes after experience and is a post-instant discourse of appropriation. But it’s not always easy to link profound ideas to describe existence. I have to admit to myself; maybe I don’t have it in me to think metaphorically. I try to conquer banal thought by developing a metaphorical stockpile, ready to be loaded into the cannon of thought, but usually my metaphors ignite prematurely, blowing off an appendage of my ego. Appendage of my ego? What the hell kind of metaphor was that? OK, let me try again. I try to enslave banal thoughts by whipping the boredom out of reality using my magical metaphorical lasso … oh god, this is getting worse each time I try to creatively explain the process of creative thinking. Isn’t this why kids go to school? Shouldn’t someone be blamed in the pedagogical institutions of my childhood for not teaching me how to develop a simple yet genius analogy? Someone must pay for my shame! Someone besides me, of course. Someone? Anyone? No? Well, moving on. The official scrabble player’s dictionary defines cliché as “a trite expression.” Though isn’t trite a socially definable and subjective word? Expression, on the other hand, is not a subjective word. Expression is the act that a being materializes through metaphorical devices. The expression of thought can be a painting, a gesture, a word, an appearance. However, expression requires a recipient of such a motion. One cannot express if there is not another being present to receive an expression; however, there can be no expression without the absence of such an expression. It’s a process of giving and concealing, like most post-modern thought would state. There must be a space in which the expression finds itself giving itself to a recipient, even if such the recipient is the giver of such the expression. To fulfill the destiny of expression, one must propel oneself into the instant of action, an act of violence, to catch up with the moment, thus expressing a metaphorical relationship with the hierarchal dynamic of forethought, appropriation and a final expression that shoots from the non-existence of expressive action to a recipient of said expression. So, we dialectically described what expression is, however to get back to our subjective term “trite,” we can only infer that as things become dull, banal, or boring, which all things subjected to the realities of technology do, things become what is arbitrarily defined “trite.” Therefore, a cliché is a conditioned response to certain expressions that continually propel themselves into the instant, and we as humans then decide when enough is enough for these monotonous, repetitive expressions. I guess this is how violence becomes funny, hysterical even, after a prolonged exposure to it. Hence we’ve developed a system of post-survival expression that can allow us to move beyond cliché, finding it sardonically funny and boring at the same time.

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