stop and smell the wildflowers
When i was much younger, my favorite color was blue. The sky was the limit, my potential was endless. Kids are full of the shit their parents give them, and i was no different.
This was, of course, before i realized that i would contribute to the downfall of proper English grammar, never to capitalize another "i" referring to myself ever again. This is perhaps because i take it so much to heart, my smallness in such a great big world, but most likely it's more to do with laziness. Damn shift key.
It's amazing i accomplish that much, considering my ambition in life and love for a nice glass of wine. Yes, i get sidetracked a lot, easily distracted. That's what Sandyland is all about. Here i can do things my way, go off on a tangent, and it's okay. i can contradict myself, revel in my own double standards, and forget where i was going with this. Manchmal werde ich in eine andere Sprache schreiben. Einfach so. Ich darf das.
My favorite color for several years now has been green. Green is awesome. After a rainstorm, the grass and trees get that greenness, you know the one, the one that resembles freshly steamed broccoli, and it just feels right. Like the world doesn't suck so much. The richness of the color, the depth of it, is enough to fall into, like Alice through her looking glass. Alice was a cool chick, she just kinda went with the flow, didn't she? People judge her because she drank from the bottle that said "drink me," and ate of the food that said "eat me." But who are we to throw stones at Alice? Water off a duck's back, that was Alice. One day it will be me, too.
Brown and orange are stepping up to challenge the green. My favorite color is starting to shift. Is this perhaps indicative of another stage of my life beginning? Brown makes me feel comfortable, safe, secure...orange is warm, inviting, soft. Just saying and thinking of each of these colors evokes different responses in me, and i'm aware of what they are. Judging and ranking them become less important the more i think about it, and taking pleasure in them increases in value. But i still claim green, that passion of youth and idealism that has yet to fade, as the blue optimism has, as my favorite color.
It wouldn't be a garden, but a forest. If i had to illustrate my life, my dreams, my worries, my cares, it would be with trees, not flowers. Flowers are fragile, sweetly scented, glorious but short-lived. A flower i am not. Now trees, trees get the job done. They're green and brown and in Autumn, orange to boot. They reach up toward the sky, they don't give up without a fight. If you really want to, you can throw one in a woodchipper, it wouldn't fight back. Who wants to live in a world where someone wants to throw you in a woodchipper anyway? Such cruelty is not to be contained by a tree, so the tree accepts it as it comes. And when we run out of oxygen...well, that's karma for ya. Enjoy the green while it lasts, for as all good things tend to do, it won't last forever. Either it'll fade with time, changing to orange or brown, or it will simply become a different shade of green that i think of when i think of green. But it will never be the same as it is now, in this instant, my favorite emerald green, so pretty and so right.
This was, of course, before i realized that i would contribute to the downfall of proper English grammar, never to capitalize another "i" referring to myself ever again. This is perhaps because i take it so much to heart, my smallness in such a great big world, but most likely it's more to do with laziness. Damn shift key.
It's amazing i accomplish that much, considering my ambition in life and love for a nice glass of wine. Yes, i get sidetracked a lot, easily distracted. That's what Sandyland is all about. Here i can do things my way, go off on a tangent, and it's okay. i can contradict myself, revel in my own double standards, and forget where i was going with this. Manchmal werde ich in eine andere Sprache schreiben. Einfach so. Ich darf das.
My favorite color for several years now has been green. Green is awesome. After a rainstorm, the grass and trees get that greenness, you know the one, the one that resembles freshly steamed broccoli, and it just feels right. Like the world doesn't suck so much. The richness of the color, the depth of it, is enough to fall into, like Alice through her looking glass. Alice was a cool chick, she just kinda went with the flow, didn't she? People judge her because she drank from the bottle that said "drink me," and ate of the food that said "eat me." But who are we to throw stones at Alice? Water off a duck's back, that was Alice. One day it will be me, too.
Brown and orange are stepping up to challenge the green. My favorite color is starting to shift. Is this perhaps indicative of another stage of my life beginning? Brown makes me feel comfortable, safe, secure...orange is warm, inviting, soft. Just saying and thinking of each of these colors evokes different responses in me, and i'm aware of what they are. Judging and ranking them become less important the more i think about it, and taking pleasure in them increases in value. But i still claim green, that passion of youth and idealism that has yet to fade, as the blue optimism has, as my favorite color.
It wouldn't be a garden, but a forest. If i had to illustrate my life, my dreams, my worries, my cares, it would be with trees, not flowers. Flowers are fragile, sweetly scented, glorious but short-lived. A flower i am not. Now trees, trees get the job done. They're green and brown and in Autumn, orange to boot. They reach up toward the sky, they don't give up without a fight. If you really want to, you can throw one in a woodchipper, it wouldn't fight back. Who wants to live in a world where someone wants to throw you in a woodchipper anyway? Such cruelty is not to be contained by a tree, so the tree accepts it as it comes. And when we run out of oxygen...well, that's karma for ya. Enjoy the green while it lasts, for as all good things tend to do, it won't last forever. Either it'll fade with time, changing to orange or brown, or it will simply become a different shade of green that i think of when i think of green. But it will never be the same as it is now, in this instant, my favorite emerald green, so pretty and so right.
posted by Sandarina at 23:03
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