Flowers are fascinating. They grow wherever they are able, be it fields or sidewalk cracks. I never cared much for most natural phenomena, but I'm drawn to flowers. It's not because they're pretty or colorful, though that's surely a perk. The cause of my fascination lies in their strength and contrastively, how easily they die. A flower may survive a hurricane and a drought, yet its life is cut short by some curious child who breaks its emerald stem. Perhaps it will be cut down in annoyance at the thought that it may be a weed, or some feline may nibble at it. See, it can thrive against natural obstacles, but withers in the face of animals. It brings to mind the idea that animals, specifically humans, bring about only destruction in their wake. I agree with this idea. When pondered, humans often only bring about advancements that are beneficial to their species, or perhaps to their pets. Some grand inventions may even speed the decay of the biomes. Humans are a disease, a mistake in evolution. I'm sure you'd think that an awful assumption, because in some ways, the life of homosapiens can be beautiful. Lovely in their display of emotions, in their art, whether writing, music, painting, et cetera. Artists are, in my opinion, the only beauty left in the human race. Emotions are hard and messy, but so stunning when displayed as a creation, derived of course from imagination. However, humankind is far too wretched to be passed by simply because of art. Abuse, rape, hate crimes, to name a very small few. Discrimination, the nature to judge those that are different, it is but one disease that has always plagued humanity. It disgusts me, the way people will find even the smallest thing to judge, and ruin someone's life over it. Like a little kid who behaved differently, who was weird, and was thus bullied and emotionally abused. That kid would grow to hate himself, at the ripe age of six or maybe eight. Why is that? Why do humans feel the need to judge? Perhaps they feel some pride at tearing someone apart, so that they'll never be able to put themselves back together again. I suppose everyone can decide for themselves, whether humankind is a disease or not. But, as most humans do, I believe myself to always be right. In truth, human beings are flowers themselves. They are beautiful, and attract others with appearance, but they often decay at the hands of other humans. I suppose children are most like those pretty blossoms, a product of where they are raised and what flavor poison they are fed.
