fluffy = deadly

Across the street from my house.
These are as tall as the second story on my house.
See how fluffy they are.
Fluffy, beautiful pollen deathinators.

Progressing nicely into the kind of ear pressure that triggers visions of lancing my ear drums. In the old days, on handfuls of meds, I'd vividly daydream about meticulously tearing bits of my body up, and even though I never acted on it, it seemed to help with the pain. Kinda like acknowledging or something. I know your sufferings, little cells. I feel your agony.

Hundreds of these line the hightway.
They're usually half brown and sickly.
They're having a very good year.
Lots of beautiful pollen, making more baby trees.
Deadly baby death trees.

My whole body has turned into a mega sprinkler system trying to scrub the pollen out of the air I'm breathing. That would be fine except breathing is a thing, so it's a little self-defeating.

This is the most beautiful juniper year I've ever seen here.
Look at all those healthy fluffy trees.
Just look at them.
Death trees.

I really hope this isn't an early indicator of an especially nasty tree spring. I know this planet is pretty, but I'm about ready for a hazmat bunker.

This is about my level of processing tonight. I'm done.