"And then I eat your love."

"And then I eat your love"

This is a disturbing thought I have whenever someone gives me food. It's not a warm fuzzy one, it is actually filled with despair and the sense that I am taking from you, and once I eat it for myself it is gone. It also hints at the terrible reality of the temporariness of life. (In this system). I always fear every time that this will be someone's last gesture of love to me.

It also makes me disgusted with myself for accepting it, as if I am reducing their love to a bite of food. (I think this might be OCD). [Published Aug 1. I don't even know if where I filed it in the archives is even when I wrote it. I'm going to stop using the "personal" tag so liberally, too. This whole blog is personal, the lines between what is personal and what is my written work become all the more blurred, and as this happens perhaps this is not the worst thing in the long run.]