What really happened...
Last night, I joined the SOCK and KS for leetle feeshies, and to catch up. We ate too much - far too much - and I told them that I was well on the way to having my heart decimated, and they quickly told me that James MacAvoy wasn't good enough for me, even if he had beautiful eyes and a lilting Scottish accent. Little do they know. Ha.

In any case, there are four more days to the end of the month, and by the end of the month, I must not have any junk food in the house, nor will I be able to eat any more junk food until August. When I become embroiled in writing applications and fending off politics with my feeble carpel-tunnel syndrome-gnarled fists, stress burrows deep within me and eats me from the inside out. To compensate, I eat anything white, soft, sugary and without fibre. Think soggy cornflakes with sugar, cheap crisps with exotic flavours which all somehow end up tasting like ketchup, sugar, salt and spice, fake pineapple cakes made of winter melon extract, sweetened silken tofu which has little value, and fake Oreo cookies which turn your tongue black.

Kale chips for your health and moral fibre
Then I have spasms of guilt and gorge myself on kale as an antidote to the salt and sugar. All of this does me no good, and makes it even more difficult to maintain my capacious figure (see DWE - it does mean slim and sleek, otherwise would I use it to describe me? Hmmm?).

So I'm tapering - to go from copious amounts of junk food to none by April 30th. It won't be easy. It will take massive amounts of willpower, but so much easier to taper than to go cold turkey on the chips, cookies, soggy cornflakes and so on. Wish me luck. Or not. There are worse situations to be in so I'm not too worried what happens.

Today I said something profound, or at any rate, it sounded profound to one person. We were sitting in the one spot on Main St. which is reserved for cool people only, but fortunately there were none around at the time. So we were sitting, and RP said that one of his pet peeves was people who don't look you in the eye when they speak to you, and that he always made an effort to look people in the eye. I said, that I didn't look people in the eye when I spoke to them for fear of drowning in their eyes.

Just add water to make it realistic...
And he thought it was v. profound, and I didn't confess that it was something that was derived from a song by Annie Lennox. After all, one must find inspiration where one finds it.

Then I got home and placed my capacious carcass on my blue sofa and slept fitfully because I was ashamed of what I was doing, what was happening despite all my logical arguments against what I was doing. Nothing to do with tapering this time although I probably should. I half-confessed this to Dr. C in a moment of weakness. See? This is what happens when you lack fibre in your diet, you deplete the fibre in your morals and suddenly become prey to your secret, hidden, dark, weak and irrational desires.

Perhaps a slab rather than an orb...
You see, Dr. C, at the time we spoke, I was metaphorically sitting by the phone the way people did in the old days when phones were attached to the wall by lines. Of course, one doesn't do that these days because most people have a mobile phone or 2, or 3 (but who's counting, or naming names) and so it would be stupid to wait at home by the phone. You can wait anywhere and have  your phone in your pocket - so much more efficient, really. But I'm ashamed of myself for doing this because I break the first agreement with myself - which is to act with integrity - and we all know that means, doing the right thing even when nobody is watching. I should really have got on with doing other things instead of sitting, being woolly-minded and generally inchoate.

Hammer Horror! Hammer Horror!
Fortunately I came to my senses - at least partially - and went for a wander around the neighbourhood examining the new construction sites and old shops being tarted up. It's safe to say that this street is being gentrified - and it's happening faster than I thought it would. Then I bought some kale and went home to have dinner. Then I made a cosmic wish list and sent it off to the future and the cosmos. Wish me well, hope that the wishes come true for me and whatever you do, please don't tell me that when the gods want to punish you, they grant you your wishes. I don't think I could live through the crap of 2008-10 again. One other thought with which to end this meandering babbling brook: No. I'm not sharing this thought, at least not literally but I'll give you a little hint:

They've got the stars for the gallant hearts. 
I'm the replacement for your part.

Hammer Horror, (KB)