Shower thoughts

I got around to reminiscing in the shower today. Sometimes it's good, sometimes it's not. I remembered a time when my boyfriend gave me some stargazer lilies for valentine's day. They're my favorite flower, I love the aroma, the colors, how the bells open up so much yet the buds are so narrow. In contrast, my mother can't tolerate them for too long, the fragrance gives her migranes, and she prefers carnations because they last longer and their fragrance is very light. 

So, I got to comparing flowers with personalities. I know once people reach a certain level of "social link" with me, I can be pretty difficult to get along with at times. People might see in me a vivacity or a creativity that seems unique and open, like the colors and bells of stargazers, and at arms' length the fragrance can be pleasant for some. But getting up close and personal, you start to see the imperfections, the truth behind the smiles and words that sometimes come from my mouth. Smelling a stargazer up close can make some people dizzy, or nauseous. The smell is overpowering, and hard to handle for long periods of time. Some people are driven away by personalities that are too strong or taxing. But I still love stargazers, with their happy pinks and mysterious purples as they wilt, and their seemingly innocent white edges.

Chrysanthemums last a long time, moreso than roses at the very least. Their bells are small and budlike, and their fragrance relies on quantity to get across. Their colors can vary from pure whites, to baby pinks, and passionate reds. Even exciting yellows exist. There are so many petals, like thoughts, all crammed into a tiny bud. My mother always has many things on her mind, and her endurance (or maybe stubbornness) knows no bounds. She gets things done. She's passionate, both when she's happy, and when she's bothered. And although she may mean well, her thoughts don't always get across without some help, much like the fragrance of a carnation. Their stems can break easily, if you know where to snap them. Through all the hard work she does, my mother has some blatant weaknesses that could be exploited or harm her if one so chose it.

I wonder what my friends' favorite flowers are. If those flowers describe them somehow. I wonder how much the things we like really describe us.