(no subject)
Why am I so surprised to see the buttercups? Did I really think they would cease growing? Just because I went into a death-like psychotic hell, that doesn't mean the damn flora did as well.
I suppose, it's because they're such a part of my childhood memories of Spring. Reflecting their yellow hue on our chins... And maybe, for a long time since childhood, I haven't paid attention to the coming of Spring. That was part of the death - the simple ignorance of life... That shut-eye, closed off approach to the world that I held during college creates this distinct barrier in my chronological reflections. A wall between childhood magic and adult disenchantment.
But here now, I see the buttercups. And I'm just tickled that they've come back to me!
I suppose, it's because they're such a part of my childhood memories of Spring. Reflecting their yellow hue on our chins... And maybe, for a long time since childhood, I haven't paid attention to the coming of Spring. That was part of the death - the simple ignorance of life... That shut-eye, closed off approach to the world that I held during college creates this distinct barrier in my chronological reflections. A wall between childhood magic and adult disenchantment.
But here now, I see the buttercups. And I'm just tickled that they've come back to me!