Daffodils and Ammo

I bought some daffodils yesterday; it’s spring and I love them.  Sitting adjacent to them on the table is a 20 gauge shell casing- which looks astonishingly like a daffodil.  The same color, the same rippled end at the opening.  This naturally put my little mind into a tizzy.  The commonality between things,  the links unseen, the perceived realities and the real ones.  I mean, really!  Daffodils look like shotgun shells?  What an image that is.  It’s hard to know at times where to draw the line; where do you let your speculation wander and where do you tell it to sit down and relax?  It would be great if bullets really WERE flowers most of the time, entering their targets to enlighten them instead of bring darkness.  I tend to think that is true of most things that are like bullets.

Wrestling with a life long conundrum in addition to receiving this visual jolt, I felt suddenly overwhelmed by all of it.  Every single thing.  Still, a weird kind of sense emerged from it.  It has to do, unsurprisingly, with my ongoing tooth showing meditation.  To wit.  To show or to grit?  For a minute I thought that the fact of my not showing my teeth, and usually gritting them, led to the aforementioned conundrumized situation.  But the daffodils think differently and in their way, let me know in no uncertain terms.  They’re daffodils and not shell casings.  The shell casing is definitely not a daffodil.  I could have probably shown my teeth til the cows came home, in this particular case, and the outcome would have been largely the same.  Nobody, still,  would know whether I’m a daffodil or a shell casing for sure,  regardless, or really care.  Since this has to do with a situation that has particular definitions and parameters- it’s “supposed” to be a certain way across the board- which were not the usual definitions and parameters in this instance so the situation was not at all what it “should” have been or what it “looked like”,  the whole appearance/reality thing rose up in startling clarity.

So, jeesh, Gentle Reader.  People with Actual Brains have pondered this question for a long time and I’m betting this is going to be a tussle on the order of when I actually learned that, without doubt, Evil exists.   This may be what happens when you don’t have television.  Instead of wondering what the next wardrobe or personality malfunction will be, you wonder what it is you’re really looking at in the first place.

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