Is it weird that I kept flowers in a vase without on my windowsill without watering them just so that I could wake up every day to watch them slowly die a little more? I like watching the stems bend over in defeat and the petals just shrivel up into these paler undertones of their original obnoxiously bright selves. The way they curl up it looks like it's in pain. And those black leaves are just turning this beautiful black oak colour that's just darker every time I look at them. Different flowers are changing in different ways. One of the stems started leaning over little by little every day until the stick was so weak the thing folds over entirely like a piece of wet cardboard. And other ones turn into these brittle greyish green sticks, thin and delicate like tiny skeletons. Some flowers go stale, like it was frozen in time and dehydrated. Some go through this really slow and painful death instead, fighting until the end and morphing into these fascinatingly hideous versions of themselves before shedding any extensions of beauty altogether. I'll admit it got weird when this one flower started breaking apart into those little seed spore things, it definitely made a mess everywhere. But I like the symbolism too, like after the plant knows it's dead, that it has no chance of survival for itself, it still manages to make this one last desperate move for the sake of future plants carrying out its work and doing what it has failed to do. Pathetic really. Especially since I'm just tossing the seeds away when the turn up lol. Like I'm crushing all that hope every time I open the dust bin with my foot. But it has to go today. I'm getting concerned it might lead to mold or something. So out of the vase they go. I wonder how they would feel if they could? Relieved? Terrified about what comes next? Just ready to be put out of their misery? Empty? I wonder if it would realise that things may be a lot worse wherever they go from here. But hell of I know. Maybe things will be better. The things gonna have to die either way. But maybe it'd appreciate the dignity of being able to die in peace. Without all the gawking and stuff. If I was a flower I'd hope that people would remember me for the moments I was beautiful. Poor flower doesn't know that I find it's death most beautiful of all. I mean, think about roses. Aren't they just so much better than they start to die a little and go that fabulously rich mauve colour. Goodbye flowers. RIP