Wednesday, January 14, 2009

The Yellow Rose.

Today, my yellow rose is dying, dead.

It reminds me of the friendship I imagine it to represent. Girls who know much more about flowers than I have told me that this is a friendship rose. I wondered for days who gave it to me, and asked several guys, who all denied this gift. The only person I haven't asked, who I assume gave it to me, took less effort to communicate with me than he did to leave the rose.

So the rose is dead, and the friendship is, too.

A rose is a rose and nothing more when it is not backed up by love. It is thoughtful and lovely and I enjoyed the excitement in my heart when I saw it... but a week later, it is mundane and ugly. 

I shall toss it into the trash and think of it no more.

On a more positive note, I really do love flowers. Especially ones that represent love supported by action.

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About Me

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I live amongst the dragons and the warriors of the 21st century. I surround myself with both the peasants, the aristocrats; the knights and the maidens. For a long time (now quite in the past), I wove the structure of my life around the mold others saw for me. I've since learned to live for God and myself. Freedom comes and goes as I remember this lesson of mine. But my life is MY life: a series of events and remembering such. And this, this beautiful montage, is why I wake up every morning. God willing.