My 200th Flower

All the plants, trees, bugs, and animals spanning across the lifeboard of this world compose a sense of desperate variety. As a child, i'd go somewhere, anywhere. Camping perhaps. I'm a collector. I gather stones, branches, flowers, pretty peices of glass, pine cones, nuts. I was a good kid. If my parents said "shut up and go play". Well, i'd shut up and go play or away or whatever. It was always better when i was in charge of my own entertainment anyway. I always wanted everything, didn't really matter if it had no real function. Funny shaped stick? Function: a little funny. That doesn't really count. Well, at least not when you've already laughed all you can about the stick, and it then fails to even make you smile anymore. Only now, you think of throwing the stick against the tree. Breaking it seems fun. But no, not yet. I like the stick. It performs no function, except one of fondness. "Remember 20 minutes ago, when i really liked that stick"?, i'd ask myself. I don't want to destroy that physical embodiment of a few minutes of pure and simple joy. I do it anyway. Break it, scrape it, hopefully it will break the other object i've heaved it against. Yes! Yes! Yes!

I'm not sad afterward. I just go on and look for more.

All the people, friends, family, fuck-ups, lovers, killers spanning across my tinted eyeglass windshield make a world that creates a sense of desperate variety. Everyone serves their fraction of function and disappears. Some make it on their own while some others do it for them. I wonder if i'm too young to understand or perhaps just young enough to pretend to. All anyone really does is pretend. Good pretend is a good friend.

I'm not a child, but i tend to fasten myself to the ease of fantasy. I'm the maker-believer of constantly. Everything sprouted itself on this earth for a reason. To consume, to compose, to bottle in and then explode, to lose itself to a bigger fight, or to win, to kill, to die, to be and be and be. There's no reason to come here, but yr too scared to leave. There's no reason for you here, but yr too scared to believe.