A junkie high on plants, flowers
I have a confession. I am an addict. A functional addict, but still and addict. Yes, I know it is hard to admit something like this, especially on the pages of a newspaper read by thousands of people, but I have to get it off my chest.
Yes, I have managed to control my addiction, but it is a major part of my life. Actually, it is one of the most important parts of my life.
I cannot go without it for more than a couple of days, and when I do it usually puts me in a lousy mood and I find it hard to concentrate, get stress headaches, and generally experience an extreme decline in my quality of life.
My only comfort is that it is not only completely legal, but also beneficial. I am addicted to seeing green plants and trees around me.
Sitting for the morning coffee under a tree energises me for the full working day. Watering the plants in my garden and seeing how the plants grow, flowers blooming, green leaves rustling in the wind, is one of the highlights of my leisure time. I feed on the life energy that is flowing out of my green surroundings.
As most addicts I am not really picky. I do have plants that I like better, but at the end of the day any living plant works. I used to like flowers too. You know, the ones we kill and put in vases in our houses, but as addictions go, during the years I have found that this is not enough, and if it is not alive it just doesn't do it for me anymore.
When you wake up in the morning, stretch a little, scratch what you need to scratch and yawn at the world, going out to the garden and taking in a deep nose full of that wonderful smell of dew covered plants and grass is truly intoxicating.
And you just know that there is nothing in the coming day that can bring you down. I think that is what people often confuse to be god. Pure life force, at its most basic primal form.
One of the reasons I relate so much to my garden is that you will never see a plant doing something bad. Plants usually don't cheat, they don't lie, they, as George Carlin used to say about chickens , are "good people". (Yes, I know there are carnivorous plants too, but that is a very rare anomaly, and without deviations life would really be boring.)
I live in a big city. An extremely big city. A city which is actually twice the size of the whole country I come from, and as cities go, it is mainly made out of cement, asphalt, steel and other cold dead materials. I love living in the city, and although I do have a past as a farmer, I believe I will spend the rest of my life in one city or another.
And here comes the problematic part, as it seems that very few people understand the importance of green lungs in big cities. On paper every municipal urban planner knows that you need to have them, and some places have laws that say exactly how much green space you need to have in a city, which is nice. Nice, but far from enough.
You see, green lungs, parks, avenues with trees, shrubs and all, are nice, but they are never a real priority.
It is not like they are really important, like car parks for example, or a big air-conditioned mall.
My suspicion is that it has to do with the fact trees don't have money. If they had enough money they would have lobbyists working on their behalf and the problem would not exist.
And much worse than the fact trees are poor bums, is the fact that when you are walking solemnly in a park, or sit in the shade of the noble branches of peace reading a book, you are not doing what a good citizen should be always doing _ spending money.
You don't buy anything, you don't download anything, you don't log in to anything but the log your back is leaning on. You are useless, not a part of "the system".
I do apologise for that. I know how you love your system and fight to keep it alive, but what can I do? It is not up to me. As I said, I am an addict.
And now, I am going to water the garden, the sunshine in this hour of the afternoon is in exactly the right angle, and if I spray the water in a nice arc I get these magnificent small rainbows, which are a lovely added value to my day.
See you later, after I get my daily fix.
Boaz Zippor is an artist, writer, poet and rambling ranteur living in Bangkok. His weird views are featured in his personal article reservoir www.bucketmoon.com/.