A Gentle Note: Flowers Do Not Possess The Ability To Hold Conversations Just A Reminder For Silly Little Girls
Is your advanced lifespan, then, more due to the socioeconomic factors or biological? Assuming the three hundred-odd years listed in your bio is correct.
If Youre Asking "Are You Old" Then Yes By Jade Standards I Would Be Considered Near-Geriatric
So, Rainbow Drinkers have increased lifespans, then.
And yet, you seem much more youthful than your supposed geriatricity would imply. For the record, a human lifespan is typically around eighty years. About forty sweeps, I think. I suppose I'm trying to draw some equivalence in culturally percieved maturity. Some sort of measuring stick to determine whether I should regard you as an elder, or as a peer who simply took longer to get to where I am.
The Average Jadeblood Can Live To Anywhere From 200 to 300 Sweeps So Theoretically Im Either In My Twilight Sweeps Or Midlife If Were Being Optimistic Your Age Is Noted As For Culturally Perceived Immaturity I Suppose It Doesnt Matter Either Way Our Species Doesnt Have The Same Genetic Markers In Biology That Mark Someone As "Advanced Age" If You Want To Think Of Me As A Condescending Peer That Works But If You Would Prefer To Think Of Me As An Ancient Nymph Fluttering Around The Woodlands I Would Not Mind That Either
Flowers speak. Not with words. But with signals. Colors. Even ultrasonic little squeaks. Do you think it is a coincidence that they bloom in bright eye-catching colors? They are saying, "come, eat me, I am ripe, ready, and offer you nutrition aplenty! I ask only that you do not digest my seeds, that I may spring forward ilk in my likeness, that they might one day feed your own offspring, and we can live together in cyclical harmony!" Others will release smells that solicit insects to pollinate, as if to say, "I am ready. Take me now. I have made peace with all my worldly affairs, each intimately and articulately in order". Roots will connect and send distress signals to fungi for food and nourishment. Lastly...in frequencies too high for either you or I to hear...they will sometimes pop. Producing little squeaking sounds at an imperceptibly pitchy level. Flowers speak. We just do not know their language. And haven't the means to respond.
The endless tedium of your chronically negative whimsy makes you uncharitably boring. What are you doing concerning yourself with the musings or silence of flowers? Don't you have some English to ignore instead? Or must he be invoked?
The latter option is more attractive to me, but the former allows for freer communication. Perhaps I'll choose something in the middle.