No need for words, no need to panic –
This is my last day on the Titanic.
That’s all love, I throw candy canes –
This is my last day on the Titanic!
– Such bouquets are only brought to the cemetery, – I bit my lips so as not to cry, clutching a wet bag of flowers in my hands.
The man looked at me in surprise.
– But do you like purple flowers? I chose a big, bright…
Here I was already surprised, I even changed my mind about crying. On my lap lay a terrible set – turquoise flowers, between which some incomprehensible brown plants were sticking out, interspersed with white roses, which clearly saw the scenery.
After some time, in the course of clarification (which I did not neglect), it turned out that he really sees purple, or about it, remembers that I love roses too, knows that there should be many and bright. And all this crap, according to the description, is clearly reminiscent of this, but in appearance it resembles the stuffed animal of an under-dried herbarium, collected in a disgusting mood under the rain, slush and the senselessness of life in general.
It’s also good that, after asking what exactly I needed to improve the situation, at the next stop he thrust long burgundy roses into my hands.
I sat and thought that, in general, disaster was within reach, because it has been raining for the fourth day, it is wet and cold, the sky is covered with a gray cloth, and here is a person who is alive next to whom you can somehow treat… for example, evil, for all of the above, and so on everything else … I felt suffocated somehow, I opened the window and something else rushed into it along with the wet wind. Not very clear, can barely catch anything about me right now, deep down to the very bottom. Why am I living like this, walking or driving, touching people, inhaling and exhaling too, I want to get wet, I want to be cold, I want to feel angry when I see flowers, and I want to and can be happy. So take it and rejoice that I am still here, and I have many colors, already now different and the person who stays next to me and does not put this whole wreath with the appropriate text on my head, but just smiles.
I remembered everyone with whom the relationship was ended and with whom they continue happily, and I thought that it is so similar to the fact that everyone sees these bouquets in different ways: someone loves daisies for their simple harmony, and someone sees in them a broom from the roadside grass and feels that his they humiliated by giving something cheaper, “roses just from Amsterdam”, and someone, choosing a bouquet, does not attach any importance at all to the fact that there is something big and/or expensive tucked away in bows and colorful paper, and someone wanted a machine, a washing machine, for example. that no matter what we manage to do. Sometimes to stop, sometimes to pass back, sometimes to be silent and not say the abomination, and sometimes not to be silent and say about the value or indeed not to hold back the one who is leaving.
How well arranged life is after all: we can do as we want and realize as we want, but we do not realize how we choose ourselves, how something chooses for us, how we obey or rebel. It is a wonderful happiness to be able to feel either the wet wind of our autumn, or the dry sand of a distant desert, or the faint smell of roses or the astringent aroma of wild flowers, to draw near to people, or to say goodbye forever to the blessings of a wise life. And then I am not by myself, I am never alone again, I am a part of the world and I belong to it and it fills with the invisible and beautiful, if I so want, (accept, choose, let in) and at the end of all this, as BGkreslo said: “Well don’t you thank me Thank you of course!”
I am like the shores;
Today, I drink feelings without ice until dark.
I am free! I live! Turn off the wires
From my white wings, and I have time.
