For the past couple days the stomach has been giving me issues reminiscent of my shit diet days in my 20s. It’s no surprise as the past couple months have been a party in my mouth with the pub brawl in my intestines. To counter the uneasy feelings I’ve been slightly going the semi-anorexic route hoping my body will cleanse itself. For lunch and dinner I had a can of tuna fish with sliced bread. I felt like a homeless dude but hey, $2 a meal.
The effects and recovery from a shitty diet is a lot like drug use. You don’t get track marks or sell yourself on the streets right away nor do you come close to fully detoxing after a couple weeks. Instead of letting the hunger pains fuel psychosis, I embrace it like it’s a spiritual energy repairing my body from impurities.
I may be drinking a Heineken as I write this but I convinced myself that I deserve it after walking in on an old blind lady undressing. The face to face contact after that may have been even more awkward. How do I pretend nothing happened?
The rest of the night was spent as usual. I read a crime story to her, she tried to offer me career and life guidance but tonight she poured on the religious sermon thicker than most nights. I just sat there and took it like a prison cell bitch. It will be over soon.
As per usual, after an emotional troubling day I run to my safe havens..alcohol and blogging.