How much more of a cliche could I possibly be? I suppose that when one defines oneself as being “alternative”, individuality can become as pathological as blending in might be to someone more “mainstream”. Everything I do must be original! No taking enjoyment in the banal! It’s a cage. If I aim to maximize happiness, then I think I’m just gonna be me. And flowers make me happy. In their presence – and that of ferrets and really excellent watermelon – I can almost understand the argument for intelligent design. Aaaalmost.
When you get dragged to a hardware store while your dad prices lawnmowers, the least you can do is smuggle your camera into the nursery and snap a few. All the while pretending you’re going to buy something, of course.