No Flowers Please

Please note: Never in my existence have I received a luxurious bouquet. I was given a single rose once. I probably would have appreciated it more if a greater percentage of it was not wilting and also not pricking me with great bloody thorns. The below is just an imagined response. Take it as you will.

Oh you bought me flowers? You shouldn’t have. No really, this is a shit gift. In my humble opinion, you are paying a lot more than necessary for some decapitated plants wrapped in flattened dead trees. (aka paper) They also don’t stay in that fascinatingly pristine state for long. Like a lot of deceased entities, they start to deteriorate and become a lesser version of themselves. You know, just like a corpse.

Is this bouquet really an accurate representation of what you happen to think of me? Of our relationship? Well shit son, it better not be. Oh you got them because they’re pretty? What are you attempting to articulate, that our companionship seems fetching, but has a doomed fate? That this friendship is already dead? That we may as well envelop it within more departed comradeships?

Let me pull a Pauline Hanson on you and shamelessly gripe for truth. PLEASE EXPLAIN. Because I cannot understand why you have given me these blossoms of blunder. I have no damage on potted plants, as they are still of this world and shall be for quite some time. Nor do I have a problem with floral prints in general. I agree with many humans on this point, flowers are picturesque at the very least. However when you wrench them out of their homes in the soil and shove them into my hands, how the hell do you expect to interpret your actions?

Do not even consider the plastic alternative. Oh yes, they’ll last for eons. So will a synthetic model of a corpse. Or an ex-parrot that has survived the process of taxidermy. Or Edward fucking Cullen. If I have not yet rendered this clearly to you; you are still retrieving a model of something that shits me very much so. A garland of dead pieces of garden only exemplifies how much of a fail at being a person you are. Especially if they are fake. To you I say, fuck your flowers. Good day sir.

Please also note: above becomes irrelevant if flowers in question are peonies.