its name is savage

So,

I had a B-day dinner yesterday.
and it ruled, food was good, friends were good,

and I got a cool gift: (a nice photography book)

anyhow, along with the cool book, I got a rose.

you have to understand one thing. the only plants I have, are dead. they were left there by the owner of my flat, and before I moved in I told him...."these plants are going to die, for I shall never take care of them". he didn't care so, I moved in.

and now, I got a rose. a beautiful one.
it has two colors (pink and white) mixed randomly on the petals.
hence its name: "savage"

whoever decided to call a rose "savage" has obviously never been exposed to any real danger, and probably has some deep deep DEEEP mommy issues.

apparently, according to my friend, it means that this flower was for adventurous people.

I took a long look at myself,
a long look at the "savage" rose
tried to refrain myself from describing the 356 paradoxes and incoherences contained into
-giving me a flower
-giving me a rose
-giving me a rose called "savage"
-believing that something savage can be related to me (actually, that's pretty cool)

but all in all, i guess sometimes i need to be put closer to my feminine side.
after all, flowers smell good, and look good.

and then they die.

just like I will.

so yeah, I guess its not that I don't like flowers, it's that they just remind me of the precarity and short-termness of life.

or that i'm too lazy to take care of them.

I put it in cold water (as explained to me) in the only thing resembling a vase I have. a.k.a. an old "hard rock cafe" big glass.

Thanks for the gift guys !!!!
i honestly did like it :)

update:

-Jay, I posted something and its not about you !!

-ah, it must not be about sex then

-no, its about roses

-pffff