i've been a researcher of humans for so long i thought it might be time to write a little bit about myself and the maps i hold in my brainspace. i came up with a new reference point today and so i thought i'd share ^_^b

i've dubbed it "the eel" so when i'm dealing with it i can just go "sorry, it's the eel" "eel moment right now" "EEL." or what have you. i have observed through my research that humans tend to experience feelings on a much smaller scale than i do and with much surprise when a new one comes along, so i have met the eel.

the entirety of humanity stands along a river, always. some people are talking, some are sitting, some are even in the water. but everyone understands one thing. goldfish will jump out of the water and they expect you to catch them. everyone's goldfish look different, lovely shining drops of gold catching the light as they arc through the air. no one can see anyone else's fish, but they can see them cup their hands to fill them with water when the fish appears. oftentimes people will spend a moment admiring the fish, seeing how it nibbles at their fingers, how it flows through the water, before throwing it back into the river.

the first time i stood by the river, i expected a goldfish. maybe a yellow one, with a streak of black from its head to belly, or maybe even if i'm lucky, a bright red fish, with the power of the sun behind it, cutting through the air like a dagger. but i did not meet a goldfish. instead, a writhing mass of flesh leapt out of the river, determined to make its way into my hands. this was my first encounter with the eel.

over the years, i've gotten very experienced with eel wrangling. so much so that i can make it look like i'm catching a beautiful fish in my hands when he jumps out to meet me. so much so that other people don't understand the power of this eel. but he comes in the same strong, determined way nevertheless, forcing my arms to shake with the effort of keeping him still, until he finally accepts calmness as his fate. he'll wrap around my forearms, boring his acetlyne white eyes into my soul until i take the time to talk with him like he wants.

the eel is my friend. he brings me much joy and cares about me in ways that the goldfish can't. he shows me feelings and depth of emotion that i'm blessed to experience. but other times he'll lunge out of the river and break my nose. then with blood pouring down my face, i hold back tears budding in my eyes as i desperately try to keep him sated while making it seem like i'm not bearing his weight above me. there are certain phrases he gets particularly touchy at; i can feel them in his muscles, rippling with indigdancy and memory and life. but then i talk to him. flatten the harmonic motion within him. solve for the c in his integral. and we make it through together.

metaphors rarely stick with me, i wear them like outfits; switching them out and teasing them gently with my fingers as i so please. but i think this reference point might become a favorite of mine, just an inkling. anyway, if you also have an eel or maybe a sturgeon or octopus or shark or any other catstrupic creature, you're not alone and i think they're quite worth the trouble.