Thoughts on Flowers.

Hello! I did not perish! Thank you for all your wonderful well-wishes! Sadly, I will continue to be scarce for another week or so as I finish up the semester, but I could not resist a post today. I am not at Tulip Fest, it's not something I've ever been to, even though I grew up just around the corner from it! Somehow, it just doesn't appeal to me--it's a kind of strange snobbery I guess--probably because I don't like tulips very much.

The tulips are too red in the first place, they hurt me.
Even through the gift paper I could hear them breathe
Lightly, through their white swaddlings, like an awful baby.
Their redness talks to my wound, it corresponds.
They are subtle: they seem to float, though they weigh me down,
Upsetting me with their sudden tongues and their colour,
A dozen red lead sinkers round my neck.
-Tulips, Sylvia Plath

(I know, it's not about tulips. But still, my inexplicable and irrational dislike of them is described here on a surface level.)


I much prefer lilacs, even if their smell makes me feel fuzzy and ill. As long as they stay on bushes and not indoors I am happy as a clam.