Cower, Power Flower

Maybe i just have to be difficult. That's probably it, i'd reckon.
Everyone loves Spring.
Hippies, poets, Nihonjin, lovers, rapists, caterpillars, sakura, and even I, yes, I love Spring, too. Despite my hatred of Chaucer, and distrust of Aries and Taurus, and uneasiness over taxes, I love April. April is a very tender month, full of beginnings and new life.
This must be why I always feel like this when it comes. It'd be boring to pry any deeper than the crimped, slightly ripped foil covering the main dish. And besides, had i really wanted it displayed, I'd have bought Saran, right?
Longer days, warmer scents, flower sense, and pollen. But pollen in a good way. Like how sperm can be like..."oh shit, there's jizz all over my black dress" (Bad way). Or "sir, your sperm count is quite in the normal range"(good way).
That is Spring. And it has arrived, with all it's heres and theres.
The reason may just be Spring envy. While my skin can feel the warmth that my black shirt soaks within itself as i ride between gardens among gardens, I still cannot feel the fever or even a flush of what the flowers feel. Why does the sun want to stay and play longer and longer each day alone with fields of flowers? Don't be such a fool! Of course, the sun can feel the flowers bowing in the mornings, and bending backwards in the evening, probably following round the earth could they uproot themselves. Why can't i just skip this frost to fine jealous banter I dip through every year? I hate hating the beginning of Spring. And the reason they say.....

After Spring envy, there's what spring brings. Spring brings out people like that red-headed neighbor from Small Wonder. Coming in through your kitchen door while you sleep, shouting through the house, dragging mud onto your floor. Being obnoxiously optimistic and freckled, (and red headed). Though it was cool when Jaime would kick her out of his house, i still never liked him. He was always putting Vickie in the closet. Fuckin' Jaime.