Sometimes, weird shit happens. Weird, unapologetic, almost magical, like an avocado with a weak heart. Like an elephant who lives indoors. Full of surprises, awkwardness and just out right weird.
This here is Wilhelm von Dumm, my first free succulent from college events. It shall be one of my companion, a provider of random aesthetic pictures, break my promises of no more daily posts, break my promises of no more daily posts. Yet the scene captivated to me: the showers of rays of sunlight, the … Continue reading Wilhelm von Dumm
“Look, child, everything the moss touches is our kingdom.” “So, does that mean we only have this little corner?” “Do not question our kind’s ever so subtle domination! One day, the moss will grow.” “I...really don’t know how I feel about this.” “Oh, they come. Be quiet now, child.” “I don’t think they can hear … Continue reading In the Crack
People write about how the flowers wilts too fast, that nothing beautiful are meant to last. Yet we still cut them from the stem, trap them in a vase from the worlds avast. I heard those poems condemning mankind’s woe against nature, felt the heat and pressure and water rising until my mind drown in … Continue reading Paper Petals
The purple petals cried and I fell, worshipful of the mourning and the morning to come. There is a season for everything, and I suppose this one is for growth; realization that I am but the one in the infinite, sordid bloom. The wind lifted the branches heavy with bushels of flowers, dropped some, then … Continue reading The Jacaranda Rain
Now I am ready to confront love. What is it but the hue so dreamy, framed by lights and lack of light to complete each delicate petal? The outermost petal threatened to fall, my muse drifted in the wind, hanging by a tangent. Despite the tug and pull, the hopes and hurts, I know the … Continue reading The Pink Rose
They say the white rose is a symbol of innocence. It's clear how that works. The absence of color supposedly equates innocence...then does that mean colors -- the elements so endearing in my heart, the only things that framed and shaped my world -- is a symbol of contamination? I say, the white rose is a … Continue reading The White Rose