riot of flowers

Having a different opinion on tumblr is hilarious because most of the blogs claim that they’re pacifist and totally accepting of everyone, but if you’re an anti-feminist or if you’re white or if you’re male or if you have any other political standing other than liberal or democrat, you will receive anons and hate mail. No questions asked.

Tumblr’s special flower community have set strict guidelines for what a special flower can be. Congratulations! God forbid anyone have original ideas :x


Flowers were blooming everywhere: flowers I had never seen, strange blooms dangling and others with sharp points, brilliantly colored, and the room was thick with their fragrance, with the smell of crushed leaves and pungent herbs. I looked around myself alight with wonder, my magic still flowing easily. “Is this what you meant?” I asked him: it really wasn’t any more difficult than making the single flower had been. But he was staring at the riot of flowers all around us, as astonished as I was.

He looked at me, baffled and for the first time uncertain, as though he had stumbled into something, unprepared. His long narrow hands were cradled around mine, both of us holding the rose together. Magic was singing in me, through me; I felt the murmur of his power singing back that same song. I was abruptly too hot, and strangely conscious of myself. I pulled my hands free.


The Secret of NIMH uses a variety of plant-related tropes to establish the areas of its miniature world. Agricultural machinery, sunset tones, and grasses create a Midwestern Gothic vibe both nostalgic and foreboding, while rose bushes are portrayed as infinite spirals of gnarled and thorny branches, and the prosperous rat sanctum falls within a ray of sunlight illuminating a riot of flowers. The movie’s aesthetic is often beautiful, though its approach is less realist than I think really behooves a movie exploring the magic of small plant-related spaces (it’s no Arrietty, for instance). 

The words ‘I love you’ have weight.
Before you utter them, make sure that you’ll stick around when outside of your window it’s Spring and she tries to fit the picture, but inside of your house she is wilting.
Love is a commitment.
Expressing your feelings this way means you’ll show her the sunlight she can’t feel or see.
When it feels like the world wants to rob her of her petals and God is nothing more than a very lazy gardener, you’ll be expected to be there for her.
So if this doesn’t sound like something you’d want to do, if you’d only be willing to be there when she’s all smiles or when she’s standing in your bedroom doorway in lingerie, don’t tell her you love her.
Don’t be a reason she wilts.
—  Maxwell Diawuoh, Don’t Be A Reason She Wilts (224/366)