How can I keep eating? I’ve been eating nonstop since Thanksgiving. My waistline is growing, my muscles are flabby and my brain is pickled with eggnog and sparkling grape juice. I’m amazed I can still type. I’ve thought about nothing but food since Thanksgiving. What’s for dinner, what’s for breakfast and wait, what are we going to do for lunch? I looked in the mirror this morning and almost scared myself. I could see new fat lines, or are those lines of worry over the recent past and current news?
I think I’ve eaten more in response to all the bad news, all the tragic news, the desperate news of so many, causing me to drown my sorrows with an oral fixation of all things edible. I know food will not solve any of the problems, but it sure tastes good as I eat to forget, eat to remember and eat just to eat.
The latest news of the fiscal cliff forced me to order a pizza, pepperoni and mushroom, extra cheese and anchovies, yes I love anchovies. Each slice satisfied my cravings, helping to drown my depression over the total irresponsibility of our leaders. They’ve all known for months about this fiscal cliff and without exception waited until the last minute, literally the last minute of the last hour of the last day. It was only then that they came up with a pathetic stop gap measure to forestall the problem until another day, I need a taco.
I guess I should be thankful that our refrigerator is full of tasty treats, diversions from the reality that splashes before our eyes every time we watch TV, log onto the internet or listen to the radio. Those distractions are much more desirable than the rotten and odorous tidbits of news that seems to permeate every facet of our lives. It’s almost like eating a moist slice of chocolate cake, enjoying every morsel and crumb, reaching for the piesta resistance, that cold glass of milk, the first drop between the lips and the surprise of a sour, acerbic taste burning the memory of the past chocolate wonder destroying the buds of flavor, replaced with the foul and chemically acidified horror of curdled and clumpy nastiness.
No matter how much good food we eat in our attempt to overcome, there is never enough to deaden the stridency of obvious corruption and political discord or the pervasive news of negativity that permeates all that we see, all that we do and all that we are. There is no meal, neither treat, nor epicurean delight good enough to mask the sour drops of congealed hypocrisy spewing from the lips of politicians as they offer up the fondant covered cakes, expertly decorated, filled only with the slime and refuse of a perverse community. They care not if we taste and discard for theirs is the gift of deception only, never caring about the substance within.
I guess there is really nothing for me to do. I don’t seem to have a voice, our leaders don’t listen. I have no power to affect any change, nor any influence to extract a difference, I’m only one of millions trying to cope, trying to survive the never ending blitzkrieg against my life, my morals and my beliefs, all I have left is my food and come to think about it that’s been manipulated, scientifically enhanced, chemically altered, packaged, processed and transformed, leaving only a shadow of the once nutritious, substantive and healthy fare of days past. Even the Twinkie is gone. Ooh my gosh I need another pizza….
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