We have all gone poof!

Whoever invented fake flowers was a fucking genius. Not for the obvious reasons of course, but because he or she created a trademark for kitsch and at the same time revealed one of our many flaws. We do not want to admit, but at first glance, and the thousands after that, a bunch of moderately engineered fake flowers are aesthetically pleasing. Our senses and brain either never knew or have long forgotten how to appreciate the complexity and it’s horny intentions. For too long we have had ourselves lulled into accepting a blurred image of a flower, a random and generic arrangement of vagina-like shapes and colors, but nothing in particular, nothing in context. We have treated them as aesthetic add-ons like widgets on a self-absorbing web page. We have treated them like space whores. It is only when we get within smelling distance that our eyes accommodate for the blissful sight and awaken our primal instincts. But now, thanks to fake flowers, we can begin to appreciate flowers again, for what they truly are, and not a side note on a feng shui paperback.

***************************************************************

I never liked flowers though; at least not the vast majority of them. Never discreet they were. And still are. I prefer general plants, small trees, the surviving class, almost bush like. The kind that with a bit of sand, a few tears and a lighter can still grow. I like to think that plants do not have feelings. Many will argue otherwise, but I am not on a scientific quest. I fancy them more like an assortment of organic material, which despite all odds moves, animates, grows. I mean they are no Speedy Gonzalez this bunch, but they are more driven than flowers. Flowers are so fucking sensitive, always used in stupid poems; you never listen about an orange tree on a poem unless someone is hung from it. Ridiculous. Like that plant – I wont even bother to google it- that blossoms only once every 4 or 5 years. If you ask me, that quite a dump tactic for a plant species to survive. Like the panda getting picky on the verge of extinction. I mean, you will never going to see the bunnies or the rats go extinct they way they hump. I prefer general plants, the ones with modest small flowers that come plentiful if they can manage, if they are lucky enough. I think they have no feelings, because there is nothing accidental or random with them, if the soil is bad, or if they are poisoned, of if they don’t get water, basically they are screwed. They die out. No one will rush in to the rescue really; after all next year another one will grow in its place. Still, it is said that no leaf is the same with any other in the world, and to me that is fine and great. These zombie like creatures calm me down, reminding of the time I enjoyed climbing trees, as I walk by them appreciative of their struggle and character. Flowers are just fucking show-offs.

***************************************************************

I am a cat person. Don't even get me started about dogs.