there is poison inside of us

We are somewhat of a garden. On the outside there is beauty. The outside, the visible, that is where the beautiful grows. That is where the daffodils, the roses and the tulips grow. They are what pull people in. Yes, they may not be necessarily what keeps them interested, but they iniate everything. People like to think of themselves as completely unsuperficial, but what a ridiculous idea to really have. You think it's disgusting to only consider looks, but equally so to only consider personality. A garden is beautiful to those who love it, no matter what. The gardener will see beauty in the roses whether they are in full bloom or wilting. However, a gardener doesn't just see the daffodils, the roses and the tulips. The gardener knows the garden. It is as simple as that, yes, the garden just simply knows the garden. That's all it takes. Familarity. But unlike the onlookers, the praisers, the gardener knows about the inner beauty too. The gardener sees the character of the garden, the smaller flowers, the supposed unappreciated flowers. But how can they be unappreciated if they are not seen? It simply comes down to the fact nobody wants to bother to look for them, because the onlookers and the praisers, all they want is beauty, simple, plain, easy-to-find beauty which is easily found in daffodils, roses and tulips. But do you think the smaller flowers care? Why would they want to be seen by the onlookers and the praisers, who will curse their pure beauty? The smaller flowers, the daisies, the dandelions and the buttercups, they are not perfect. But it's not about being perfect. The wonderful feeling one gets when discovering the smaller flowers in the midst of a chaotic garden is simply the feeling of discovering. It is that simple. Everything is simple, but the onlookers and the praisers, they wish to make things complicated, so their lives may resemble a world that does not exist, a world they simply know of through television and books. The smaller flowers are the part of the garden which you would lie under the stars with, they are the flowers who's visibility may be weak but their presence is strong. Lastly, there comes the weeds. Such an ugly word. Maybe it is the assumptions which make them so feared. The weeds, they contain poison. There is poison inside all of us. We may have beauty and intellect, but we also have poison. A perfect balance. The poison spreads. It must be controlled, or it can spread, and it can control the garden, and it manipulates the beautiful flowers and smaller flowers alike to think worse of themselves. It undermines them, puts them down, it wraps itself around them until they believe they are nothing. There is poison inside us all, there is poison in every garden, but there is a place for it. It's when it invades the forbidden territory that things get out of hand, and the garden transitions from beautifully chaotic to deranged madness.