i’m sitting in the grass, on a hill covered with dandelions and little purple flowers. it’s beautiful. technically, all the color i’m surrounded with can be attributed to weeds. people pay big money to make sure weeds don’t grow on their lawns, but my life is a meadow full of them, dotted with color growing from things that never promised to bloom but did anyway. wild seeds sown carelessly that make something beautifully unorganized. how nice it is that even weeds can bloom.