A Colorless Rose

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Spider Fuji

The Spider Fuji actually seem to look like they are spiders. It is delightful to see a flower pretending to be an arachnid. It normally ends up being the case where an animal does all it can to try and appear like the nature which surrounds it. It is much more interesting when it is the flower that tries its hand at camouflage. At least it makes things much more intriguing.

This flower is not one that many would consider to be something typical. It is because the flower seems better fitting to an aquatic domain that it has such a unique and beautiful look to it. If it looked like a normal flower, then there would be no use in talking about it one bit.

Its petals are strewn about in such a funny way that looks scattered that the yellow color creates a more enchanting feeling rather than one of disenchantment. It would be lovelier if the yellow weren’t such a bright one. Sometimes a brightness is wonderful, but this is not always.

That all being said, some people would do themselves a huge favor by being brighter and regarding seeing the world as a lovely thing. Some people should consider doing more than just passively being in the world. Sure, the sun is always there, but its absence would be noticeable.

People frequently decide against doing something that would make their lives so much simpler since it often warrants many hours of hard work. It would all be to their advantage. A lot of work is required before everything can be made so much easier and much simpler for all who can be involved. But all are too lazy, and will not take the first step towards having things easier.

There are so many people who wish to do things but are held back by themselves. I feel awfully for these people. There is a world out there full of adventure and people who are willing to share this adventure with anyone who does even so little as ask to become a part of it. Yet, fear is much more powerful than desire ever will be. This is what causes the most chaos.

There was a good friend of mine, Liam, who often told me all about how he was going to change the world and make something of it. He never seemed to know exactly how he was going to accomplish such a feat, but knew for certain that he was going to. It was very admirable.

He had a long journey ahead of him, and he knew it. This was what made the challenge more appealing to him. He didn’t want to be someone who always took the easy way out. This would end up being his character flaw. It makes sense that the one person who wanted to be someone to change the world and make it better would end up being his own demise.

However, the story of Liam and all he tried to do is not one that ends up horribly. He did end up fixing some issues. Although, he did have a lot of trouble finding enough people to help him out in his quest to change the world and make it better. Yet, he was so enthusiastic about doing good and bringing more good into the world that people willingly followed blindly. It would have been such a shame if he weren’t such a good person to be around and follow.

It was a shame when he left the school and the town. Everyone knew that there would never be anyone who even came close to him. The town considered making sure that the world knew of his leaving, and wanted to remember him forever. We then realized he was alive.

It was a failure of an event, but was one that made a lot more sense in theory. This was why we never tried again to act as a whole town. We then all went our separate ways and continued to act as separate people who only happened to all live in the same place.

Gladly, this was not the case in anywhere I moved after that. Now, I was in a town where people knew more of each other than that they existed. The town I lived in was one where people at least were willing to knock on each other’s front doors, even if only for something as simple as sugar. There was something comforting about that. It may be sugar, but it was something.

I was there, with piles of torn artwork all around me. I am not one who hates clutter with the passion of a thousand suns, but I am likewise not one who adores a complete mess with a passion that is comparable. I am not in great favor of something like that. I like to be able to see everything, yes, but sometimes it is just too much to have it all thrown haphazardly down.

“So, do you really think that it would be worth it to leave everything here, out in the open?” I asked him, wondering if he was even listening to me. He was focused in his own work and I wasn’t going to ask him again, even though the answer was incredibly important to me.

“Why wouldn’t we do such a thing? Don’t you want people to be able to find what we’ve so nicely created?” There was some teasing in his voice and I didn’t know if I was annoyed by it because it made it seem as though he wasn’t taking me seriously or if it was because I felt so horrible for destroying artwork that people were emotionally torn over that I hated the lightness.

“I just think that it makes it easier for someone to walk in and get the absolutely wrong idea about what we were doing here. We don’t even know the guy. Who are we, to come in here and then go around and mess with all of his stuff? It just doesn’t seem right.” I stopped short.

“There’s no need to worry. People won’t mind that we went here and made the place more interesting to look at. It was just a boring old place before we showed up. Things were neatly in a box and there were some blank pages hopelessly bound together. Don’t fret.”

“It doesn’t seem right.” As I was saying the words, I looked around for a pair of scissors.

“What are you looking for? There doesn’t seem to be anything very well hidden here.”

“Nothing.” I did find what I wanted. I folded up a piece of blank paper and began cutting into it. Paper fell down to the floor, cascading so slowly, but then all at once. It was so nice to see that what I had done was doing something real to these pieces. I made some more incisions and then wondered if I was doing something wrong. I opened it up. “What do you think of it?”

“I think that you don’t know how to make a snowflake, but that’s not really the issue with your artistic ability.” He picked up a piece of paper and slipped the blades from my fingers. I was going to say something, but simply watched as he cut the paper. There had to be a reason.

“If you think you’re going to do better, then I wish you the best of luck.” As always, my attempt at showcasing the feelings he gave to me was a complete failure. He knew how to sound coy and charming at the same time. I just sounded like a hopeless romantic who never won.

He gave a cocky smirk. He was probably very good at making something out of nothing and I wanted to see his skills when put under only a slight bit of pressure. “See, this is what a snowflake is supposed to look like,” he told me as he opened his up and held it to my face.

It was a rather impressive flake. It was full of intricately cut out details and had nine sides to it, something which seemed impossible to make. It shouldn’t be able to be done, make a snowflake with an odd number of sides. The paper was folded into an even number of pieces, after all. How can it be where something even so easily is transformed into something odd?

Even though I wanted to marvel over the beauty of his snowflake, I was nothing except for a sore loser and he was soon to find this out. I knew that he would hold onto whatever bragging rights I was willing to give him, and so I refrained from outward expression to him.

It was difficult to not ask him how he made it. I wanted to ask him exactly how he knew what to do and exactly how he knew how to make something so wonderful out of a boring old sheet of paper that was only good at collecting dust. I longed to know if there was some secret or if he had simply practiced enough times to know exactly how to make the perfect one every time.

There was no use in pretending that I did not care for it or about it. “So, are you one of those people who just sits around making snowflakes every waking moment he can?”

“When I was little, I spent almost all my time making them. Now, I can never find the time to perfect my craft. I assure you, if I wasn’t so rusty, I could have made one much better.”

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