Friday, July 08, 2005
i'm keeper of the grove, beyotch
A few months ago, I noticed a new plant in front of my house that my mom had planted. Since my car is parked in the driveway, not the garage, I have to exit via the front door everyday and pass this particular plant. Actually, "pass" isn't a good description. "Walk completely around" would be more accurate - because of the height of the plant's stalk, the stupid thing would droop down in front of my path everyday.
I don't why, but the plant would just piss me off. I'd frequently kick it or slap it out of the way. Other days, I'd talk some smack to it as I'd hit it like, "Goddamn green piece of crap" or my multi-use word "BASTARD". Every trip to my car became an episode of some inter-species, human-on-plant violence.
Than it happened one morning, while I was at home feeling pretty crappy, that I was walking out of the house to pick up the newspaper, that I had an epiphany of sorts. I just stood in my driveway staring at the drooping plant. By random circumstance, life had just basically crapped a big stinking brown turd on this plant. After all, the plant hadn't asked my mom to be put there, a target for my daily abuse. It just ended up there.
I didn't feel like hitting it anymore, but at the same time, it still annoyed me that it was drooping in my path. So I went into the house, found an old long stick, and went to work, KotG style - I stuck the stick in the ground parallel to the base of the plant and then tied twine around the plant to the stick to pull it away from the walkway.
A few weeks later, I noticed the plant was actually growing something, even after all the ass-kicking it had previously took from me... some nice flowers. Flowers that'll probably pollenate and make my allergies go haywire until I sneeze to death.
Why am I writing about plants and pink flowers, anyways? I dunno. I think I must be going crazy...
faye - yep.
lbs - will i get high and have a vision? if i don't, imma be really disappointed i went to all the trouble to dry 'em out and roll 'em up. heh.
the vision: a yellow koala will appear, flogging you in the shins with a barbie doll, pointing to your crotch, calling you a brutish male chauvinist. it'll mash you with ecofeminist philosophies, then pose to you a riddle: "now, do you want me to point up or point to the soil?" i know that, to you, the following might seem blasphemous, but point to the ground, bro, and say "this is womb and mother to all things." do as i say, save yourself, fuck all principles. otherwise the koala will rip out your heart.Post a Comment
the flower is pretty, though.