Jimsonweed

My best friend and I were lounging about outside of the building that our other friend was holding his graduation party in at the time. She and her fiance wanted to step outside to smoke, so I accompanied them (I'm loyal to her as such; I usually never leave her side when we're together). The heat and humidity were both appalling, and the cigarette smoke was starting to make me feel ill, so I decided to wander about the parking lot a little. I spotted these flowers sprouting so daintily from the ground--it intrigued me, because the tranquility of their existence seemed to emanate from the very atmosphere of their presence. I pointed them to my friend and, to my surprise (and, I surmise, her amusement) she carefully picked two of the three flowers that were in bloom, and proceeded to fasten one of them into the locks of my hair, and the other into her own.

I felt a sense of contentment there that I usually do with her. It was a moment in which I felt that incredible connection between me and her; I was feeling that momentary feeling of solemnity that exuded from her rarely peaceful smile. "Life is hard right now," it always says, "but I'm here smoking and having sex and living all that I can out of it, because this is just what I do, and my best friend who's been attached to my [artificial] hip since the eighth grade accepts me for who I am." And it's true--I do accept her for who she is, because her countenance is always so invigorating and loving to me. She taught me so many things about this world that I could barely comprehend before; she molded me into my own conscious, free from the prison of thoughts that weren't even my own. She is the sole reason that I can admit to my bisexuality today and not feel a hint of shame for it.

But I digress; this is where the story takes a turn into the interesting. The previous post from around four days ago is a result of a spontaneous bout of research done at the local library--my intentions were to finally uncover the identity of an elusive, weed-like plant that my dad claims his family commonly used for tea in Mexico. Unfortunately, I have not been able to prove whether or not these claims are true yet (I may take photos of it later and display them here to ask for possible assistance with my goal in the future)--however, I did unexpectedly discover something else truly interesting:

From this source:
"Known also as Downy Thornapple, Devil’s Trumpet, Angel’s Trumpet, and Loco weed, this annual herb grows three to five feet tall, has pale green stems with strongly scented spreading branches, and leaves three to eight inches long, coarsely serrated along the edges. The large trumpet-shaped flowers are white or purplish and are formed singly at the forks in the stems. “It’s a very pretty plant. The flower is particularly attractive,” says Dr. Rollins. Other Datura species like the smaller angel’s trumpets are grown as ornamentals and can be poisonous.

Jimson weed contains many toxins, in particular the alkaloids atropine, hyoscyamine, and hyoscine (scopolamine). The seeds are the greatest risk, with alkaloid concentrations believed to be greater than the leaves and stems. Seeds are contained in a hard, spiny capsule about two inches in diameter which splits lengthwise into four parts when ripe. Even one seed is strong enough to spark symptoms. Says Dr. Rollins, “They’ll see bugs, they’ll see spiders and ants climbing on the doctors and nurses and their own skin. It’s a visual hallucination and it’s very scary.”"

I was astounded for a moment--the pictures were frighteningly accurate; I sat back in my seat, and mulled this over in my head: we were playfully fasting death into our hair like innocuous ornaments. Immediately, I was so wonderfully enthralled into this newfound realization that I sent this message to my friend in a casual conversation we were having--:

"AND WE CARRY AROUND DEATH EVERY DAY
IT WHIZZES PAST RIGHT ABOVE OUR HEADS WITH STINGERS AND VENOM
POTENTIAL DEATH BLAZES FROM OUR STOVE AND FROM OUR CHIMNEYS
WE SMOKE DEATH, WE CONSUME DEATH, WE BREATHE DEATH IN EVERY DAY
AS TIME PASSES, WE COME EVER CLOSER TO DEATH

THE DARING PLAY AROUND WITH DEATH AND TEASE WITH DEATH"

And it is true--we are surrounded by death in such a powerful and influencing way every single day. There are yew shrubs in our front yard that could kill me if I ever-so-decided to ingest their needles. Take this into deep consideration, and remember just how omnipresent death can be. Mother nature can so easily feign innocence...