Serenity & Spice

It calls to me. That sweet sugary goodness in all of its confectionery glory lays waiting for the time I can come to rescue it from its cold isolation.   Its flaky crust... its smooth cocoanut filling…sweet cream piled high on top.   It waits for the moment I can come to claim it.   It’s not mine.   The pie doesn’t belong to me.   I have become Eve in the Garden of Food tempted by the forbidden baked good from the Refrigerator of Knowledge.    I wrestle with my temptation every day.   Whether it’s a juicy cheeseburger with thick cut bacon or a box of assorted doughnuts, I gorge myself until there is nothing left of the cool and controlled person I was only moments before.   Only one bite, but that’s never enough.   Maybe one piece…exquisite.   Soon I jump into a diabetic’s dream; fluffy whipped icing, wonderful hard candy that gets stuck to your teeth, rains of sprinkles and chocolate chips pore over me as I dive headfirst into a vat of pudding.   I indulge with al

I have realized that the last post I did was the most depressing shit and will try to work on it.   I haven’t posted anything because I was unsure what to write about.   The harrowing call of the muse would pass me by and I would be left alone and uninspired.     “I have to get up early”, I would tell them. “I’m too tired,” I would say. It won’t be good enough I would think. Well, maybe it isn’t good enough, but who cares.   I have seen worst writing from world famous authors.   Whatever happened to the art of words?