Thursday, 1 August 2013

Feeling blue, seeing pink

I don't feel very well. This is quickly becoming my own mantra, a very bleak and boring one, I'm starting to worry it will be written on my grave.

In the past 18 hours I have visited my local GP, a walk-in medical centre and an urgent medical centre. My parents already knew how to get to each of these places, despite both centres being located in obscure back streets of the Leeds outskirts. This is because we've been to them before. My mum actually described my life as a road-map of various health centres. One year I spent Christmas day in one. They're really quite depressing.

So now I find myself in bed, having taken an obscene amount of drugs and pills, switching between being a sweaty mess then just a giant goose-bump. My face is puffed up like a pug's and I have lost my appetite. You know it's serious if I have lost my appetite.

So while I lie here feeling incredibly sorry for myself, I thought I would cheer myself up my looking through my photos. I sometimes get weird looks for photographing everything everywhere, but as you can probably tell, I like to document all the things that make me smile. Lying here, looking like a pile of mashed potato, breathing like a heavy smoker, at least I have all my pretty little pictures to make me smile... who's winning now?!

So here's some cheery pictures I took a few weeks ago of all the bright flowers growing in my Mum's garden. You might notice a colour theme going on. But they're just so pretty and delicate and each variety is so different and they don't get stupid throat infections or swollen glands. Stupid, lucky flowers.


These are my favourites, they look like they're made from tissue paper.

Pinks and whites together are definitely my favourites.

This flower was smaller than my littlest fingernail and was all on it's own in my pond, surrounded by green. Made me smile.

I love this shade of pink next to the creamy yellow, reminds me of my beautiful bedroom

cheeky little flower resting its head on the bench

I realise they are 'just flowers', but each year I relish the day when I first notice their little heads popping up in the garden. Then far too quickly they decay and die, but it's nice to know I will see them again next summer.

And so they give me hope, that soon this dreadful virus will leave me alone and with the passage of time I will once again bloom like a pretty pink flower.

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