I love food so much that I think I actually hate it—it hijacks my mind and soaks into my brain like a marinade. Sometimes I cannot think of anything else but food.

Focusing at dinner parties can be a monumental challenge for me.
I'm frequently distracted by snacks.
Food occupies my mind during those tender moments in life 
when my thoughts should most definitely be elsewhere.
I have not always been so royally unbalanced.  Before soul-sucking adult responsibility entered the picture, my emotion was more accurately connected to my appetite—I ate when I was hungry, I stopped eating when I was full.  My mind was filled and sated with curiosity and wonder, not mint chocolate chip ice cream.

Now, my appetite is largely ruled by emotion.
Whenever I am...


When it comes to sugar my self-respect and willpower evaporate—
I buy cookies and speed-eat them like some kind of monkey-pig crack addict.

Nauseated and disgusted, I throw away whatever is left.
Soon after, however, the rational part of my brain disintegrates 
as the last remaining sugar molecules exit my body.  

I observe myself with blinding horror, pick through the trash— 
discarding soggy bits and mystery debris—

and devour the rest. 

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