Roses are nice but not worth slowing down for.

Scott McBotanist

Stop and smell the roses. Okay, I’ll give it a shot. Everyone tells me that I move too fast whether they’re using the colloquialism or not, but they’re always saying the same thing. I haven’t stopped to smell flowers in a long time. I know I’m not supposed to take it literally, but I don’t know what I would do to relax if it wasn’t smelling roses.

They’re red. I knew that, but they’re red. I guess I haven’t really observed how red they are, but they’re red. I’ve seen red before. I don’t think that because it’s a flower, it immediately makes it peaceful. The bush itself is green, and the stems and thorns are green, too. I guess it’s a slightly different green, but it’s still just green.

This seems like a waste of time.

The sounds are unique, but unique doesn’t always mean good. There are birds chirping and bugs buzzing. The breeze rustles leaves. I guess that sounds okay. A dog just barked somewhere.

I don’t get it.

The breeze feels good. I was a bit sweaty before. It’s pretty hot out today so it’s pretty nice. The actual leaves feel smooth and glossy. The petals feel fragile and a bit like linen or silk. The thorns hurt but that’s obvious.

I definitely don’t get it.

The rose’s smell like – like some shitty candle! They smell like a fucking bathroom air freshener. What was the point of this? Slow down and smell the roses? Why! They smell like shit! God, I wasted so much time. If I thought I could drive my face into these thorns hard enough to die I would do it right now.

So, I keep sprinting.