doldrums and daffodils.

Today, I got bullied for the first time since I was 9. I lived in England

and the boys in my grade made fun of me for having an

American accent. I blush.

Jejune!

SO,

on my way home on the train I was kind of bummed. I thought the bully was sorta a friend, no doubt and I was kind of feeling like there was a GIGANTIC "V" for vendetta on my forehead... the poke was a passive aggressive petal. a pretty dumb one. Regardless.

Incidentally, there is a kind man that sells flowers outside of the subway stop by my house. He is always there, and no one ever buys any flowers from him.

(Lola, you say, this is such a sad tale. and what is up with this depressing pic of a brunette metaphorically standing in as you appearing downcast and trodden?-- hang in there it is meaningful I swear!)

Well, I bought a bouquet of daffodils from this man.

Yellow and White.

And on my way home, I made a quick delivery and put them through the bars of the bully's conveniently situated first floor window.

I was in

the

BELLY OF THE BEAST!!

The motivation for this murky monster most likely lurking belligerently inside, or hungover and in a blue gatorade coma.

Cronies abound lurking for sure!

(this much I know. cryptic references aside.)

.

I could feel the gloominess and doldrums seeping out of the window. I could almost see it like a thick green fog emanating from a faery-tale swamp. The daffodil was soaking it up like a sponge.

Because it was too blindingly beautiful of a day.

and I can't stand Clowns dressed up as Princes.

I "sorta, kinda" felt better!

garçonnets, abdicate your thrones.

*(photos by Samuel Hodge. view his ba ba ba beautiful blog here)*

Because there is a rose in Spanish Harlem...and a Daffodil in the East Village: Ben E. King and the Drifters

x,

Lola