August 28

contains: strong language

someone who i once loved dearly loves hydrangeas.

i take photos of them as i pass by in such a way that my heart stops for a second

my heart stops and the only stupid thing i can do is tap a stupid little cluster of pixels

a stupid emulation of a shutter button that i could go on about in ways that my therapist would congratulate me on (i had a hard time allowing anger (or any emotion at all) and now it is all that i can perform)

the root of it is that i am utilizing bemoaning modern technological developments and mourning the solid commitment of things to form and function

all as a way to ground my quote unquote unjustified upset at a fleeting human existence, the impermanence of it all.

the small impermanence of humans who love flowers, the impermanence of flowers and the impermanence of this stupid little moment where i am standing in front of this hillside of flowers crying and tapping a stupid screen to capture a beauty that is impossible to capture for a stupidly beautiful person who doesn't care about me because i was in a stupid moment, so stupid and so unable to

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hydrangeas change color based on the color of the soil they are rooted in.

sorry i mean

hydrangeas change color based on the color of the soil they are rooted in.

sorry, again, i mean

hydrangeas change color based on the acidity of the soil they are rooted in.

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K Higa Lame online, lame IRL.

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