Similes and Metaphors

What else do I write as I sit in this room, alone, at Panera?

Do I just sit and write until my fingers fall, until my hand falls, off?

Where do I go with my pen? Where shall my pen lead me?

A thought I had earlier today, about mice - the mice that cause computers to function, with a click -

A silent mouse
   that makes so much noise...
A silent mouse
   that erases deeds
     without accountability...
like Knapp is trying to do, or so it seems.

How do I explain my feelings in regard to this sweeping under the carpet of Knapp's lies, of the disappearance of the CHSCA website, at least its direct access, at least for now?

Will Knapp be considered 'compassionate' for simply deleting its existence, for trying to erase the lies, the half-truths, the labels and threats exacted? Will the CHSCA, minus the defamation and profanity, be resurrected and emerge as some sort of legitimate healing center, whitewashed? Does Knapp distance the site and his name with it from readily accessible public view so that his words and deeds do not mar his feigned humility and embarkment upon his next 'righteous' cause?

Knapp's lies are insignificant compared to the largeness of life; I know that. And they will fade as time goes on.

I think again of Simon Crosby's article, Undoing Scapegoating - that if a scapegoater chooses to address in some manner such as with apology or (I add) with an act of so-called compassion by attempted erasure of dirty deeds, and lies, and twists, and treatment of others as unintelligent to be swatted like gnats - that the goater receives pity from onlookers if the goatee continues to hold the goater accountable for the goater's deceit. That if the goater appears to "undo" the scandal, the goater moreso than the goatee will then possibly receive credit for the "undoing." And that apologies (or the like) are not an undoing of or resolution for the scandal; but rather, apologies without accountability act as a putting away of the deed...making the story nice but without any restorative justice.

Once something is put away on a shelf, it is often forgotten. The 'something' can even be stored in a beautifully carved, red-velvet-lined, mahogany box with an embossed golden latch, or no latch at all.

The shelf can be appealing to the eye. Neat and orderly. Books with impressive titles penned by impressive authors interspersed with exquisitely chiseled stone or metal or wooden bookends. Hummels and sculptures catch the eye, causing one to ponder.

Perhaps a beautiful ceramic urn containing ashes of some previous great or non-great relative sits with grace among the treasures - among the books; the ends; the sculptures; and the red-velvet-lined, carved, mahogany box with or without the latch.

Transparency, even translucence,
  non-existent upon the shelf...
    except through the holes
of sculptures and carved bookends.
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