Bloom 25 Pt 1

Blooming:  A note from Hunter S Thompson:  Ah, yes—Blooming Season—that brief, hallucinatory window when nature vomits color onto the landscape like a drunken god with a paintbrush. The air is thick with the stench of pollen and false hope, the sun a merciless spotlight exposing winter’s crimes. And what do we do? We grab our cameras—our weapons—and charge into the fray, half-blind from the glare, half-mad from the beauty.

This is no time for art. This is war. The flowers are staging a coup, the trees are in full riot gear, and the godforsaken bees are hopped up on nectar like tiny, winged meth heads. You think you’re taking a peaceful snapshot? Fool. You’re documenting the chaos before it’s swallowed again by the crushing void of summer heat.

So shoot fast. Shoot reckless. Let your lens betray the lies of pastel serenity—catch the tulips in their garish, screaming glory, the dandelions as they plot their guerrilla takeover of your lawn. This is not photography. This is survival. A last, desperate stand against the inevitable march of time, entropy, and your neighbor’s goddamn leaf blower.

Now get out there. The light’s fading, the flowers are laughing at you, and the vultures are always watching.

BLOOM OR DIE.