I don't know what you mean by that

I don't do literarly.

There is something in my head that prevents me from seeing things as for what they truly are and instead my mind feels a need to explore and see what could be.

Why can I never appreciate a thing for what it is and move on?

To some extent I do blame the Oddballs for this constant metaphor-syndrome that I seem to suffer from. Because I do know that the company of my friends will alter the very fabric of reality and when we spend time together we are never in the present reality, but in one created by and for us.

However it is not just the Oddballs fault I suffer from this, my sister is just as big and accomplice in this matter. She brings out that metaphor thing, but in the sense that she never sees it until I tell her about it, which I feel a need to do when she's being her usual clueless self.

Don't expect me to take anything you say literarlly, because I will twist your words and have them mean what I want them to. As long as we're clear on that I think I can survive despite this syndrome.