Where the Wild Roses Grow





He looked at me as though I had just broken some unspoken rule… or at least a once spoken rule which had faded into silence but still hung in the air, because he cared, staying a giving hand, because he cared.

“What beautiful flowers!… but who are they for…?”

“Me… I bought them for myself.”

“But… I thought you didn’t like cut flowers…”

His eyes, his voice… was that a droplet of hurt which glistened within them, hurt borne of love, of caring, of the desire to give and yet being unable to do so because the receiver is in a rejecting state of being… and he understands, he empathises, but sometimes…

“I don’t like cut flowers… but I don’t always have to be me, stick to my rules of being me, sometimes a change is called for!”

I had demanded suddenly that he pull the car over so that I could act on an impulse… a delayed and much argued with impulse which had won the argument.

I had seen these beauties, had wanted them… but then I had told myself that I don’t want such things. The spoken and unspoken rule of being yourself and sticking to whatever you have decided that yourself is… but is it a rule which can never be broken as once you break it, you break yourself?

You don’t need them…

…but what if need is not the inspirer, what if something does the inspiring…

Stories… stories narrating every second of our lives as ourselves… where do they begin?

Not at the beginning, for who remembers such a time. I don’t… I can falsify those memories, but I know they are false, patched together by the eyes talking to the mind. Snapshots, photographs seen of me before I knew myself, before I became conscious of being a self.

When did my self decide that I didn’t like cut flowers…? Was it in a time of denial, a phase which required the self to let go of… things like that, and seek other things, things which were not things?

Or… or… or…

“Do you want these wrapped?”

“No, thank you.”

“Are you sure?”


“I’ll remove the price tag…”

“No…No, thank you.”

“But…” she didn’t say it, but her face did. People only buy bouquets to give to others, therefore the price tag should be removed, right?

But what if I’m buying the bouquet for myself and the price tag is a part of the gift which I am giving to myself and receiving from myself. After all it did play a large part in this story in the middle of a story. That price tag almost stopped me and confirmed the argument against the impulse – I couldn’t possibly spend that much on myself, now could I?

Or… or… or…

But… what f I not only could, but did…?

Sometimes changes aren’t the ones we seek, the ones which we try to force upon ourselves, to fit some ideal of ‘a new you’ or a ‘someone who does what is expected’. Sometimes change is an impulse, a natural one which just says…’Try this…see what happens…’

He smiled. I smiled.

He knew, he understood. I knew… and knew it was time to understand something new.

The end… in the middle, which is not an end at all, but a threshold of a beginning in the middle.



Mural - julie podstolskiMural via Juliepodstolski



A change of pace     

This is a good day for doing something different. You are probably bored with the daily routine and would like to do something that provides a stimulating, unusual change of pace. You seek this not only in diversions, but also in your relationships. The people you meet today are likely to be quite different from your usual friends. A love relationship that starts during this time is apt to be electric, exciting, unstable and short. You are not looking for a steady relationship now; as a rule you desire the unusual. You may make some unconventional arrangement with your lover, such as agreeing to have other lovers. This influence also causes relationships to begin suddenly and then quickly go through all stages of a love affair.

Venus trine Uranus, Robert Hand via Astrodienst Daily Astro



Kylie Minogue & Nick Cave – Where The Wild Roses Grow



Sometimes we have to let go of our rules about who we are, to let go of who we were, act on an impulse…to discover who we are…. and let the wild roses grow.