0001; First impressions always come in second.
I've never been the sort of person who lives her life in metaphors. It's never interested me to have a poetic way to describe the feeling I had while working a popcorn kernel out from between my teeth. I have never understood the need to pull pretty words out of one's ass in the hopes of sounding like something, someone, more. Not to say that I'm against it, there have been quite a few pretty words tossed my way that actually managed to make a change for me. Just so long as one isn't obnoxious about it, really. If every other sentence out of your mouth rhymes with the last, or comes as a result of spending hours upon hours pouring over The Cure lyrics, hoping to find some catalyst hidden between the lines, well then I'd have to say that I won't find you half as interesting as you'd like to pretend you are. I value straight-forward, down-to-business, check-your-crypticism-at-the-door conversation. It's the best way for me to get to know anyone, the best way for them to get to know me. It's really not as difficult a thing as anyone might suggest. Honesty comes easily, when you don't have anything to hide.
Despite all of that, I'll sometimes find myself sucked in by another person's metaphor for life. Today I was asked what kind of center I would have were I a truffle in a box of chocolates. At first, I laughed at the question, but my interrogator was relentless (he always is, he always has been). He didn't want just any old answer, either. He wanted to know why I would have that center, as well. I never gave him an answer, but I've been thinking about it for the last hour. I'm going to answer it here. What the hell, you know?
I think I can identify with champagne truffles, particularly ones of this caliber. Upon first notice, first taste, they seem complex. If you just chomp into one, unwitting, you'll be met with an amalgamation of heaven and hell on your tongue. These are not truffles you eat for the sake of eating, they are to be devoured completely, and savored. You have to work through the layers with your tongue, peeling back coat after coat of creamy milk chocolate. You have to be gentle, at first, or the shell will crack and collapse, completely defeating the purpose of trying and ruining the experience for both you and the truffle. I think I'm a lot like that; you can't just take all of me, all of who I am, and try to swallow it in one go. I'd underwhelm you, you'd overwhelm me, and we'd both walk away feeling very disappointed.
After the thin coating of chocolate has been infiltrated, there is a thick layer of rich, dark chocolate mousse. It's just sweet enough to be inviting and just bitter enough to keep the weak-willed at bay. Kind of like an early warning system. "Warning! Paradise lies ahead." The dedicated will suckle the truffle, working into the darker, richer flavors of the mousse. The closer you get to the middle, the thicker the layer of bitter that will coat your tongue. It isn't something that's meant to discourage, merely aid in preparing the consumer for what comes next. When someone takes the time to really get to know me, I can be sort of intimidating. I don't mean to be, it's just how people take my personality. I am an advocate for speaking your mind and I don't really have a functioning filter established, to keep the more harsh thoughts from totally blowing someone away. The further you delve, the more intense it can become, and the more likely you might be to back away.
Success, at last. After all of that effort. The subtle, sonic explosion of pure sweetness can be enough to stun a grown man. The champagne-laced delicacy that had been buried within, like a pirate's beloved bounty, really does inspire euphoria. If not for the build-up prior, this confection would not be so sweet. It is fleeting, this moment of consumption, but the impression lasts a lifetime. In other words, work hard enough for it and I'll show you my heart.
So what kind of chocolate are you?
Despite all of that, I'll sometimes find myself sucked in by another person's metaphor for life. Today I was asked what kind of center I would have were I a truffle in a box of chocolates. At first, I laughed at the question, but my interrogator was relentless (he always is, he always has been). He didn't want just any old answer, either. He wanted to know why I would have that center, as well. I never gave him an answer, but I've been thinking about it for the last hour. I'm going to answer it here. What the hell, you know?
I think I can identify with champagne truffles, particularly ones of this caliber. Upon first notice, first taste, they seem complex. If you just chomp into one, unwitting, you'll be met with an amalgamation of heaven and hell on your tongue. These are not truffles you eat for the sake of eating, they are to be devoured completely, and savored. You have to work through the layers with your tongue, peeling back coat after coat of creamy milk chocolate. You have to be gentle, at first, or the shell will crack and collapse, completely defeating the purpose of trying and ruining the experience for both you and the truffle. I think I'm a lot like that; you can't just take all of me, all of who I am, and try to swallow it in one go. I'd underwhelm you, you'd overwhelm me, and we'd both walk away feeling very disappointed.
After the thin coating of chocolate has been infiltrated, there is a thick layer of rich, dark chocolate mousse. It's just sweet enough to be inviting and just bitter enough to keep the weak-willed at bay. Kind of like an early warning system. "Warning! Paradise lies ahead." The dedicated will suckle the truffle, working into the darker, richer flavors of the mousse. The closer you get to the middle, the thicker the layer of bitter that will coat your tongue. It isn't something that's meant to discourage, merely aid in preparing the consumer for what comes next. When someone takes the time to really get to know me, I can be sort of intimidating. I don't mean to be, it's just how people take my personality. I am an advocate for speaking your mind and I don't really have a functioning filter established, to keep the more harsh thoughts from totally blowing someone away. The further you delve, the more intense it can become, and the more likely you might be to back away.
Success, at last. After all of that effort. The subtle, sonic explosion of pure sweetness can be enough to stun a grown man. The champagne-laced delicacy that had been buried within, like a pirate's beloved bounty, really does inspire euphoria. If not for the build-up prior, this confection would not be so sweet. It is fleeting, this moment of consumption, but the impression lasts a lifetime. In other words, work hard enough for it and I'll show you my heart.
So what kind of chocolate are you?