I get a little screwy. I do things I would never usually think of doing, like stealing blooms from the neighbors’ lilac in the dead of night. Like not being satisfied with having FIVE lilac bushes of my very own. Like dreaming I’m swimming in them. Once, I even ate them. True.
At this time of year, I carry a pair of garden shears in my car. I cruise the streets looking for untended, abandoned bushes and fill the back seat of the car with their blooms. Then I drive home with all the windows shut just to overdose on the scent.
I lust for lilacs in the most elemental, animalistic and immoral way. I lust for lilacs in a way that violates every deadly sin (or, might violate if given half a chance).
Am I alone here?