Taking the light rail home from work means 45 minutes of sitting or standing around. Last night I had my iPad with me, and I killed some time with a series of selfies using its Photo Booth feature.
This one is a good metaphor for how I feel at the end of a meat-grinder of a day.
This is a metaphor for the transcendentally cerebral superstar I wannabe, but, given Marie Curie, Carl Sagan and John Von Neumann, among MANY others, know I’m not.
Here the metaphor is We Are Being Watched, by from-elsewhere folk who see with heat.
This one is apt in revealing how deep my depression gets.
This Cyclops metaphorizes fixation; and it’s un ignorable that a certain procreative organ is sometimes referred to as Mr. One-Eye. (I can be a real dick sometimes. So can you, regardless of gender.)
But sometimes the world’s kaleidoscope leaves us O-mouthed.
Lastly, there’s the seemingly Real Me, a one-off metaphor for Work In Progress.