call them a rosehead, beautiful and unconventional, at least in mind rather than the body.
they stare at the clouds when the day is long and cold, and see all blue.
i look in wonder at the grandeur of the sunset over the citrus orchards, and the sunrise through the mist over the lake.
i live in the place where the trees mirror the sky and we are bathed in vermillion light.
it is beautiful, yet so crass when it comes speak.
manic tendencies are a constant for me, sometimes i just start to smile, my heart will start thumping, and my stomach clenches, so i clench my teeth together until my jaw is sore so i've stopped my hyperactive craze, and i become calm once more.
and i breathe in-two-three-four, and hold; two-three-four, and out; five-six-seven-eight-nine...
sometimes i rake my nails over my forearms of bite the inside of my lips.
it is harsh, but i cannot control my craze. it's not the slightest bit nice. i end up with a headache.
i shouldn't have sugar when i haven't eaten, i can hardly sit still in my seat.
i'll be bouncing off the walls and my ears will ring and everything passes in a haze as i chase my seemingly friday night youth.
i don't actually like roses all that much.
anything which i cannot erase romanticization from, i don't really like.
i bet when you read the title, you saw a rose in a red shade. i apologize for that, but i like roses if they're dyed yellow against the dark green is lovely when real.
and i do interpretive drawings in pencil, i don't add color because i don't like how it upsets the value.
everything is dark and emits despair, i won't tell people if they're depressed or not, anyone concerned is fully capable of finding out on their own whether or not rosehead is depressed.
not to be hypocritical, but i hate the saying "actions speak louder than words". i think it's stupid.
and sometimes i like the sun, but i burn easily.
the feeling of the sun on your skin is something irreplicable, whether in the ocean or as it streams through a window.
i'm ditzy, just the other day, i couldn't find my sunscreen so they decided not to take any with on a ten-mile hike, my shoulders are slightly burned, and my face as cooled after i slept with a wet cloth over my face to calm my stinging eyes.
maybe i just like to close their eyes and face the sun so that when they open once more, everything is filmed in blue, and suddenly, the world is almost another reality.
...ever just wish you could lay in a sunflower field? or like, be buried under a pile of sunflowers and just stare at the sky? i love the contrast of yellow to blue, but it has to be certain, and i'll let you figure that out...i kind of wish i was a sunflower. but don't worry, i'm quite content with being a rosehead.
i am a rosehead, irreplacably average, beautiful in body and mind, i do love myself. to the sunflowers and lavenders, handsome in sound and expectation, i do wish you too will love yourselves, now and forever.
Wow oh wow, I've broken 75 followers, I am so happy that so many people enjoy my works! I just like the number 75 specifically because in America that's 70% on the grading system, and a 70-79 is a C, an average grade, and I am an average person, extremely because my username and real name begin with the letter 'c', which is also an uncannily average letter, like, it's just a curve that people are weird enough to add a dash to.
I normally don't post these sorts of pieces, but I enjoy reading them. I find I'm inadequate when trying to write them, so I end up ranting, haha.
it's really not about what flower I would be if I were a flower, but the portrayal of personality using flowers in the association. but just for kicks, if you were a flower, what would you be?