My whole life is a metaphor.
A cautionary comparison.
A series of SAT analogies.
This is to that as that is to this.
Like meets like. Same meets different.
Synonyms and antonyms.
So many unnecessary words.
Running on sentences with dangling participles.
The past tense, splitting
a perfect continuous infinitive.
This story tries to fix it, in concrete form.
To make it solid, set, in time.
Still, it can’t be. It cannot be.
Because it starts and ends, in media res,
but not literally,
Skip to My Lou, My Dharma 
Language can be so imperfect in capturing experience, especially the essential context. Maybe the receiver must be committed to unfixed conceptions
Yes! Unfixed is they key.
We didn’t remember commenting in February, so our reactions were similar regarding language as an imperfect tool
Also, we wonder if we have to tell our stories at all or as often as we do. Do the stories just reinforce our habits and perceptions (confirmation bias)? Work against flexibility and adaptability? For us, we think it is so. But if we find the feelings, judgments and let them lead us to our unmet needs, then we can act, have choice, help
It’s tough as a writer to realize that maybe it is in fact better to stop telling the stores…
But maybe it’s time to rewrite them?