numb plants

I have found myself oddly fascinated with plants. They’re like us, alive and breathing, dying and drinking, soaking up the sun and waiting to die. We’re alike.

If you choose to view it in this manner, there’s only one slight difference; they lack a heart and/or feelings. They have no thoughts, no cares, no problems, nothing. So, what?

At times, I can relate. (and isn’t it for the better?)

Sometimes I feel numb, all over. All these emotions pile on top of each other until I’m completely immersed in alternating sensations, the terrible and the terribly terrific. Chaotic confusion. Out of nowhere, like a meteor hitting the Earth it hits me.

Then, nothing. My mind has been wiped clean. There’s absolutely nothing there. Not a tingly feeling, not a feeling at all. Emotionally paralyzed. Mindlessly emotionless, but I enjoy not feeling. No thoughts. No cares. No problems. Nothing.

Such a dramatic transformation. Entirely everything to consummately nothing.

Is this what death feels like? What if when we die and are buried in the soil, we sprout up? a petunia? an apple tree? a sunflower? What happens in that second coming?

We die again. A prepubescent lover picks us up, splitting us in half, ripping us apart. They thought we were beautiful. They wanted to keep us for themselves. They thought we were theirs for the taking. They were unaware that it would kill us inside. Or else they were insensitive to the fact that we would be rotting in their possession.

^ PRODUCTS OF EXCESSIVE THINKING… ENJOY ^