Metaphor Overdose

I'm digging a little deeper into my psyche today than I had planned when my feet first hit the floor. Something about the way the ground feels this morning is inciting an emotional riot, and what started as a few weepy moments of happiness last night as Obama was declared the victor, has morphed into a bit more of a flood. I'm not crying anymore (save for the reprise earlier when I heard a replay of his acceptance speech), but I have made some headway towards alienating anyone or anything within a hundred foot radius of my mouth. I guess there's not really a selective emotional filter for me - since I, Obama-like, keep my emotions under an iron manhole cover almost always, when I lift the cover, everything that's been festering there swooshes out like a vapor.

I'm searching for a bridle to steer this ungodly snorting, crack-addicted vapor of self-expression into a corral. But there's no corral, just open plains. I read about places on earth that are so flat that the expanse of sky creates a kind of vertigo; an imbalance where points of reference are reduced to something less than this or that; not necessarily up or down, left or right, or even right or wrong. Maybe the prospect of a slingshot off of the gravity of the last eight years has disoriented me. The whole world changed in an historically profound way last night, and I may just be experiencing a personal cleansing that goes along with such a change. I feel myself shaking off a kind of grimy layer, and there's a lot of crap coming to the surface. I mean, how many non sequiturs and sloppy metaphors can I pack into one blog, anyway? I'm obviously clearing out the attic. All I know is, I need to get my sea-legs on, cause this is gonna be a ride I wanna be on.